


The Cure

by cunning_wreck



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 58,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunning_wreck/pseuds/cunning_wreck
Summary: Kakashi is an emotionally stunted shinobi; some might even call him sadistic. And he’s okay with that. That is, until he meets Tenzō, and the life he was balancing precariously on the sharpened edge of a kunai suddenly tips. In a moment of panic, he takes the Cure, the ultimate ninja’s tool. Zero emotion, only the mission, but it comes at a cost. Apathy is addictive, after all.





	1. The Balance Tips

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to serendipitousDescent for being awesome and editing for me!
> 
> This is my first solo fic, so I'm freaking out! Hope you enjoy!

_Say flowing forces haunt  
leaving no shade pattern  
Why huntress why pattern_

-Susan Howe

“Kakashi.”

“Kakashi?”

Genma waves a hand in front of the vacant Copy-Nin’s face. Well, what he can see of it at least, basically a blank charcoal eye staring fixedly at a point somewhere over Genma’s right shoulder. 

“Hm?” Kakashi blinks, snapping out of his momentary daze, his eye training on an unamused looking Genma. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

Genma exhales a deep sigh and starts again. “We’ve finally been assigned our new team member. He’s a bit younger than everyone, but apparently his special ninjutsu more than makes up for any lack of experience. Kakashi-”

Kakashi had zoned out after the first sentence, his eye once again locating and resting on the man sitting in the waiting area, his foot tapping against the linoleum floor. Brown ruffled hair and eyes the shape and colour of almonds scan nervously around the room. His hands twist in his lap before he reaches up to adjust his hitai-ate, running his fingers idly down the side of the face protector that spans from his forehead down to his jaw. 

Kakashi’s eye follows the movement. There’s just something captivating about his presence. Kakashi can’t put his finger on it, but when the man in question had entered the room, Kakashi was immediately enraptured. He can’t seem to look away. 

At some point, Kakashi realizes, Genma must have given up on getting through to him, because he is suddenly across the room talking with the man Kakashi had been so keenly observing. He flinches when he realizes that Genma is now pointing directly at him, and Kakashi’s breath catches when the brown eyes lock on him. 

Kakashi blames his sleep-deprived mind for all of this. Normally, he’s piercingly perceptive, but today he’s off his game. He forces himself to stand up, his knees stiff from having sat at the table all night filling out paperwork from their last mission. Kakashi makes his way across to where Genma and the other man are standing, his hand idly scratching the back of his neck. He lets out a yawn, mostly for performance’s sake, and halts when he’s standing next to Genma. 

“Kakashi, this is Tenzō. Like I was saying before while you were so rudely day dreaming, he’s the newest member of our team. He’s been fully briefed on our mission.” Brown eyes meet grey, and Kakashi swears he can taste ozone in the air, almost like an electrical circuit connects when he and Tenzō lock eyes. The buzzing feeling last only for a split second, flashing away with the speed of a lightning bolt, and Kakashi extends his hand.

“Hatake Kakashi, ANBU Captain for Team Nine.” He half expects sparks to erupt when Tenzō clasps his hand and shakes it, his grip firm. But nothing happens. 

And everything happens. 

The eye contact Kakashi and Tenzō had been maintaining up to this point finally breaks as their hands fall to their sides. And Kakashi has the distinct feeling that things are about to change, though for better or worse he doesn’t know. 

“Tenzō, pleased to meet you, Hatake Kakashi.” Tenzō looks between Genma and Kakashi, expectant. 

“Kakashi,” Kakashi corrects. Tenzō looks at Kakashi curiously, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, almost imperceptibly. Kakashi thinks he wouldn’t have even noticed the difference had he not been studying the man’s face previously, watching his mouth. 

Wait. His _mouth?_ Kakashi frowns, wondering at the strange thoughts swirling around in his admittedly addled mind. But then again, it’s not like Kakashi is normal, and he knows this. He doesn’t interact normally with people, doesn’t notice certain things, and has a tendency to obsess over others. 

This is a new development, no doubt, but it’s not entirely shocking. Nothing really shocks Kakashi any more. Except maybe the electrical feeling that left his veins buzzing a moment ago.

“Kakashi-senpai,” Tenzō corrects, his mouth definitely turned upwards this time. Kakashi’s eye crinkles as he chuckles, and he looks over at Genma. 

“We should head out. You know how much Raidō hates to be kept waiting.” Genma rolls his eyes, shifting the senbon between his teeth as he nods. 

Genma looks over to Tenzō. “Think you can keep up, rookie?”

 

  
It only takes them fifteen minutes to get to the South Gate running at full speed. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly since he did make it into ANBU, Tenzō manages to keep up. As Kakashi takes a deep breath, he notices that Tenzō doesn’t even look tired. In fact, he looks rather pleased, observing Kakashi with that faint quirk of the lips again. For some inexplicable reason, it makes Kakashi’s gut clench. 

“That’s some stamina you’ve got.” Kakashi remarks, eying Tenzō. His gaze runs lazily from the standard sandals, up his black sweats, up his tight black shirt and steel ANBU chest protector, to his covered face. Kakashi feels the same kind of electrical shock he did before when those dark eyes meet his through the slits in his mask. 

Despite the cat shaped mask, swirled with black and red streaks, Kakashi can picture Tenzō’s handsome face studying him. 

_Handsome?_ When had he become handsome? Striking maybe, but handsome? Kakashi shakes his head, trying but failing to understand his own mind. Not that Kakashi isn’t attracted to people, but he isn’t used to it. It doesn’t happen often, and when it does, he runs in the opposite direction. Attraction leads to emotion, and he’d rather not think about that. 

Kakashi pushes aside his emotionally stunted thoughts that would have a shrink crying in a corner when Tenzō responds. “I’ve been training for this, for my first ANBU mission. I don’t want to fall behind.” 

Kakashi can see the fire in his eyes. _Obito_ , he can’t help but think. Kakashi can feel the memories twisting in his chest like a kunai, creating fresh cuts, never quite letting the wound heal. 

“We should go,” Raito says impatiently, glancing between Kakashi and Tenzō. Kakashi nods, and they streak out the gate in a blur of black and silver, a shadowy mirage. 

 

  
Once they’ve made it a decent distance from the village, as the sun is starting to fall behind the tops of the trees, they stop for a short break. Genma and Raidō go to fill up their canteens in a nearby stream, leaving Kakashi and Tenzō alone for the first time. 

The tension is back. Electrical. Palpable. 

Kakashi senses that Tenzō wants to say something. It’s as though he can hear his mind whirring. He’s not used to being so attuned to one person, and it’s disconcerting to say the least. But he can’t help but be fascinated by Tenzō, the way his dark brown eyes seemingly pierce straight through Kakashi’s mask. 

Kakashi knows himself, knows he’s eccentric, strange, dark, hell he’s even been called sadistic, but it had been more of a joke when Obito had said it. 

_Obito_ , Kakashi thinks again. The kunai twists. 

Tenzō shifts his position, appearing to have resolved himself to whatever it is he’s going to say. “I have to admit, when I found out I was going to be on a team with Hatake Kakashi, the great Copy-Nin himself, I was expectant, excited even.” 

Kakashi stills. Most people aren’t this blunt with him, especially after mentioning his rather well known nickname. He raises a brow despite himself. He’s curious. “And, do I live up to your expectations?”

“Yes, and no,” Tenzō says slyly, his eyes glinting in the twilight. 

Kakashi takes a step closer as though Tenzō’s words are magnetically pulling him in. Before he can think better of it, he removes his mask. It’s not strictly allowed while on an ANBU mission, but they’re still in Konoha and he can’t sense any hostile chakra. “Oh?” he says in mock anticipation. “Do tell.”

Tenzō follows suit and removes his mask, lips turned upwards. “Well, let’s just say there are some rumors about you. Okay, a lot. And they’re slightly conflicting, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

Kakashi cocks his head to the side slightly, eye crinkled. 

Tenzō continues, “Some people are of the mind that you’re the village’s top shinobi. Others think you’re deranged.” 

Kakashi chuckles to himself, looking down at the mask in his hands, the red lines looking like bloody gashes in the dimming light. He plays along, can’t help himself. “And, what side are you leaning towards, if I may ask?”

“A bit of both, I think. Maybe leaning slightly to deranged.” The charged moment of silence is broken when Kakashi laughs. He actually laughs out loud. Not a low chuckle or a fake laugh. This is... new. This is real emotion. 

Normally, he would be worried about that, but he can’t help but feel a pleasant warmth spread through him from his chest all the way out to his extremities, fingertips tingling. 

Kakashi gives into the magnetic pull and closes the distance between them, clapping Tenzō on the shoulder. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.” 

He’s rewarded with a smile that brightens up the darkness that had settles over the clearing. The fire in his eyes is back. The electricity is flowing. Kakashi can feel it running through his hand, where it still grips Tenzō’s shoulder. And it’s a warm buzz. 

Pleasant? Kakashi’s not sure, but neither of them flinch away. 

His hand only drops when Raidō and Genma stroll back through the trees to meet them, talking between themselves animatedly. He had almost forgotten it was there. 

Kakashi isn’t as close to Raidō and Genma as they are with each other, but it never bothered him. He knows he’s not amicable, not easy to be friends with, and this is by design. A long time ago, after Obito and Rin and Minato, Kakashi made the decision not to get closer than necessary to anyone. If he doesn’t love anyone, he can’t be hurt by them. It’s logical. It’s safe.

But Tenzō, in the few hours Kakashi has known him, is already bulldozing through his walls. And he’s not exactly upset about it. 

Genma raises a brow as he looks between Kakashi and Tenzō, but he says nothing. Kakashi grabs the canteen Raidō extends to him, saying “We should head out again.”

They’re gone in a moment, shadows leaping through trees. All that’s left in the clearing is the fizzle of electricity, slowly dying out.

 

  
“So the group of missing nin we’re looking for,” Tenzō says as he runs, keeping pace with Kakashi, “they’re basically assassins for hire?” 

Kakashi glances over to him, wishing for the first time since he joined ANBU that he could see the face beneath the mask when they talked. “Yes, essentially, our goal is to take them out before they can assassinate the lord of the Land of Rivers. If there were political turmoil there, it would be much harder for relations between Konoha and Suna. The Land of Rivers lies directly between them.” 

“Hm, so we have to assassinate the assassins before they can assassinate their target. Wow, that’s a mouthful.” 

Kakashi laughs again, despite himself. This is turning out to be an odd mission, and they haven’t actually done anything yet. He muses, “That’s one way to put it. I prefer to think of it as an exercise in moral relativism. They’re trying to fulfill their orders; we’re trying to fulfill ours. I suppose the winner is the one who kills everyone else first.” 

This time, Tenzō laughs, and the sound is so bright and warm it leaves Kakashi dazed. He feels warm. He wants to hear that sound again, be the cause of it. Tenzō’s fire is catching. And he’s not sure how to feel about it. 

But the warmth is… nice. 

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Tenzō says, laughter still in his voice. “I’m definitely leaning towards deranged.” 

They keep pace, running side by side. Though the conversation died with Kakashi’s last chuckle, the silence between them is comfortable. And that’s not a feeling Kakashi normally associates with this kind of mission or with ANBU in general. It almost feels like he’s a genin again.

He tries to focus on the burning sensation in his legs while he runs, but Kakashi’s mind wanders back to the sound of Tenzō’s laugh. It’s like nothing he’s heard in years. Kakashi didn’t know he could make people laugh anymore. Well, laugh in earnest, laugh with him. 

Kakashi feels an invisible pressure on his chest, right over his heart. It’s not the stabbing feeling he gets when he thinks about Obito or Rin. It’s tight, but not sharp. 

_Just what is going on with me_ , he asks himself, knowing there’s no answer he can give. 

But the walls surrounding him are starting to crumble.

 

  
The four ANBU sit scattered around their makeshift camp, eating from their packs. Kakashi can hear Raidō and Genma arguing in quiet voices, but that’s a fairly regular occurrence. Normally, Kakashi is the silent one who sits slightly off to the side reading. Tonight is no exception, and Kakashi has his nose buried in his beloved Icha-Icha novel, tuning out the white noise easily. 

“Is it any good?” Kakashi looks up at the sound of the voice. Tenzō stands over him, gesturing down at his book. A smile creeps up his lips before he can stop it. He’s lucky he’s wearing a mask. 

“Hm, this? It’s only the finest literature of our time.” Kakashi looks back to his book, finding his place again. 

“But doesn’t _Jiraiya-sama_ write them?” Tenzō asks, incredulous.

“Yes, as I said, fine literature.” 

Tenzō snorts, sitting himself down next to Kakashi who sighs and shut his book. He wouldn’t usually be this distracted by a conversation while reading. Hell, he’s even fought Gai in one of his ridiculous competitions while still reading. But Kakashi’s attempts to tune Tenzō out seem to have no effect. And Kakashi is beginning to suspect it’s damn near impossible for him not to be hyper aware of the man. 

Tenzō shifts slightly closer to him, and it’s barely noticeable, but Kakashi sees it. Feels it. The tension is back, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He can feel the buzzing in his veins again, but warmth is also spreading through him. This is definitely not in Kakashi’s social repertoire. 

“You have a knack for making yourself at home, don’t you, Tenzō?” 

He snorts at the joke, but then something darkens in his eyes and he becomes more serious. “Well, I guess so. Home is really wherever I go. I don’t know how much you know about me--if you read my file--but I’m basically a test tube shinobi Orochimaru created for kicks. I don’t have a family or anything to go home to. I make home where I am.” 

As if to demonstrate, Tenzō claps his hands together in a seal, and suddenly wood is sprouting from the ground. Before Kakashi can even react, a wood cabin finishes forming itself before his very eyes. Well, eye. Kakashi wishes he had the Sharingan activated so he could see the jutsu better in action. 

“Home,” Tenzō declares, his eyes glinting, and Kakashi just knows he’s smiling triumphantly behind the mask. 

“I take it you didn’t know about my Mokuton before now, judging by your reaction,” he laughs. 

“Hm,” is all Kakashi says, but he feels warmth spread throughout his body again. 

“This sure beats lying on the ground,” Genma remarks, suddenly standing next to them, Raidō in tow. “We should have recruited you ages ago.” 

 

  
Kakashi can’t sleep. Not that he ever does, at least not for long. When he does sleep, images of his former team swim before his eyes, taunting him, torturing him. He relives the worst moments of his life over and over at night. Sometimes, he wishes he could just fade into the darkness and disappear. But tonight, Kakashi can’t get to sleep.

He rolls over and glances at Tenzō, curled up on his side a few feet away. The moonlight filters through the open window of the cabin, illuminating his face. He must not be used to wearing a mask to bed, because it lies discarded next to his head. 

Kakashi can’t help but stare at his relaxed face, almost iridescent in the cool light of the moon, at the way his chest gently rises and falls with every breath. 

_Beautiful_. 

Where did that come from? He knows deep down it’s absolutely true. It’s a fact. But why is it affecting him like this? So what if he is beautiful? Why should that alone make the breath catch in Kakashi’s throat? Why should that make the tight feeling in his chest come back? 

Everything about Tenzō has Kakashi breaking his own rules, reevaluating himself. 

_But who is Tenzō?_ Kakashi thinks. He’s the only person Kakashi knows who’s made him really laugh in years. He’s the only person who says his opinion of Kakashi right to his face. No one does that. He’s the only person who makes Kakashi feel this warm... whatever this is. And the buzzing every time Tenzō is anywhere near him. It’s… 

He doesn’t know. But the weight presses harder on his chest when he thinks about it. 

Kakashi has been closing himself off for so long, he doesn’t know what to do with all these new feelings. It’s like his skin is crawling. 

He rolls back over, facing the door, hoping oblivion will rush over him and drag him under and into a thoughtless sleep. 

 

  
When the first shreds of light touch the sky, Kakashi lets himself get up. He quietly rolls up his sleeping mat and perches himself in the doorway, looking out into the trees. He sits like this as the sun rises higher in the sky, bathing the forest in a pink glow. 

After a few minutes, Kakashi becomes aware of someone behind him, and the strange feeling is back. It’s Tenzō. He silently lowers himself down to sit next to Kakashi in the doorway, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the cabin. 

They sit like this in amicable silence until Tenzō finally speaks. “You didn’t really sleep, did you?” 

“I normally don’t,” Kakashi confirms. He chances a glance to his left, his eye meeting Tenzō’s. The dark irises eyes are filled with an emotion Kakashi can’t quite place. But his chest feels tight again. “But especially not during missions.”

“I’m sorry,” Tenzō says.

Kakashi frowns, not sure what he means. “About what?” 

“Your loss.” 

Kakashi is silent, but his heartbeat quickens. His throat is suddenly too dry. 

“You, um, you were talking in your sleep. When you did sleep, at least. And you kept repeating a few names.” 

Kakashi doesn’t respond. No one has ever talked to him about this, at least not this directly before. But it doesn’t feel like a confrontation, doesn’t feel like prying either. It catches him completely off guard. 

“I- I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

Kakashi looks back out at the forest, but his eye isn’t focused on anything in particular. He starts when he feels a hand tentatively placed on his shoulder, but he relaxes when he realizes what it is. 

Comfort.

No one has tried to comfort him in a long time. 

The aching in his chest lessens, and Kakashi breathes for a long moment, letting the warmth of Tenzō’s hand seep into him before he looks back to his left, meeting those indescribable eyes. “Thanks.”

It’s all he can manage, but Tenzō seems to understand. He lets his hand fall, but he doesn’t get up from where he’s sitting next to Kakashi. 

They sit like that, close but not quite touching, as they watch the sun climb higher in the sky, until Kakashi finally forces himself to break the silence. “We should wake the others and get going.”

 

  
They run all day with very few breaks, and Kakashi is starting to feel it. His legs are burning, but it’s not a bad feeling. 

He looks over at his teammates running around him. Raidō is in front of him, Genma behind, and Tenzō at his side. They never addressed it, but apparently this is their new formation. It just happens naturally when they start off after their breaks. Kakashi can feel the force like electricity between Tenzō and himself again, like they’re charged and drawn to each other. 

“According to our intel, the rogue shinobi base should be two clicks ahead at our eleven o’clock,” Raidō announces, and they all halt. 

“We should rest now while the sun it still up, and then infiltrate when it’s dark,” Kakashi says as he lowers himself onto the branch he and Tenzō had landed on. Genma jumps over to sit with Raidō, and Tenzō easily lowers himself to sit at Kakashi’s side. 

Kakashi pulls out his Icha-Icha, not with the intent to read it, but to give his eyes somewhere to look that’s not Tenzō. He doesn’t trust himself not to stare. 

His plans are foiled almost instantly, when he feels an uncomfortable prickling at the back of his neck. It’s the ‘someone is watching me’ feeling. He struggles with himself not to glance over to Tenzō, who he knows is studying him. 

Normally, people staring doesn’t particularly bother Kakashi. After all, he’s infamous in Konoha and most of the other ninja villages as well. He’s used to eyes following him, scrutinizing him, making assumptions about him. Perhaps the gazes started more in sympathy, first with his father, then Obito, then Rin and everyone else, but people learned not to talk about it, only stare when they thought he wasn’t looking. 

So, Kakashi had become adept at ignoring the feeling of eyes trailing him. Until now. The prickling feeling spreads from his neck down his back and arms, and he finally gives in, turning to look at Tenzō. 

“Yes?” Kakashi asks. 

In response, Tenzō riffles through his pack, pulling out a couple granola bars. He looks back to Kakashi and offers him one. “You should eat something. You didn’t on our last break.” 

Kakashi simply stares at him, grey eye focused on the almond ones across from him. He hasn’t had someone try to take care of him since Minato and Kushina. It takes him entirely by surprise. He would laugh, except the brown eyes piercing into his are dead serious. And there’s that emotion again, the one Kakashi can’t quite place. Tenzō’s eyes are full of it.

“I took a soldier pill this morning. I don’t really need anything right now.” Kakashi tries to keep his voice even, but it’s difficult when Tenzō keeps surprising him like this. 

“Pills don’t solve everything, Kakashi-senpai.” It’s blunt, but the care in his words fills Kakashi with that same buzzing feeling and warmth again. 

_Sweet_ , Kakashi thinks. _Sincere_.

Then, _Rin_. 

The tight feeling is back, and it’s coupled with the twisting, cutting one. 

Kakashi needs to get himself under control. Only, he can’t seem to be able to.

When Kakashi looks down at his hands, he’s holding a granola bar. When did that happen? He frowns and looks at Tenzō. One look in those eyes and Kakashi forgets the stabbing feeling, if only for a moment. 

“Just think about it,” Tenzō says, gently patting Kakashi’s hand, which is now tightly gripping the bar, his knuckles going white. 

Tenzō gets up to fill his canteen, grabbing Kakashi’s at the same time. 

“Thanks,” Kakashi murmurs. It’s barely a breath, but he somehow he knows Tenzō hears it. 

 

  
When Tenzō gets back, Raidō, Genma, and Kakashi are packed up and talking quietly. Tenzō joins them and they start off again, falling into the formation that has become normal to them. 

They’re only running for a few minutes before they reach the location where the rogue shinobi are supposedly located. It’s a cave, a small opening in the side of a mountain, inconspicuous, the perfect place to hide. Genma and Raidō stop on one side, Tenzō and Kakashi on the other. Kakashi readies his Sharingan and signals to his team members, then they creep in.

The cave looks dark at first, but there’s a faint glow far ahead, flickering like fire. Kakashi can sense chakra down where the light is coming from. Maybe around twenty people. 

Kakashi signals this information to his team, and they all head in that direction, silent as the shadows they pass through. 

When they’re close enough that they can hear distinct voices, they stop. Kakashi edges around the twisting cave walls, catching a glimpse of what lies around the bend. He signals for Raidō and Genma to take the left and for himself and Tenzō to take the right.

Then they lunge in.

The four ANBU don’t give the rogue nin a chance to react before they draw their swords and effectively surround them. Kakashi slices in an arc with his tanto, taking two men down with one movement. He glances over to where Tenzō is taking on two missing nin. 

Wood bursts out of the cave walls and ground in sharp points, aiming for the enemy. He corners one rogue shinobi with the Mokuton. He viciously hacks at it with a katana, and wood splinters fly. It’s all for naught, because in the next moment, he’s impaled on a sharp, square branch. Blood trickles down the jagged wood, pooling on the cave floor.

Kakashi has to pry his eyes away. A silver glint catches his attention, Sharingan following the path of a kunai headed straight for him. He dodges it at the last second, two of his own kunai headed in the direction of the thrower.

He turns to face his next opponent even before he hears the sickening thud of the kunai hitting its target.

Another rogue nin comes at him with full force, his voice yelling incoherent curses that reverberate off the stone walls at an eerie pitch. He’s silenced immediately as a senbon sinks into his throat. It takes a genius to aim like that. Genma.

Kakashi jumps over the now crumpled form, eyes set on his next opponent. 

Raidō slashes his katana diagonally, taking down another ninja in one sweeping motion. Kakashi lunges at the figure aiming their shuriken at his back. He cuts him down in one blow. Raidō turns to look at Kakashi, standing over the missing nin. “Thanks.”

Kakashi merely nods and continues on, gripping his tanto tightly. He tries not to focus on the overwhelming smell of blood, the darkness, the feeling of being trapped underground, tasting stale air. It feels like one of his nightmares.

He’s dragged back to the present when his Sharingan trains on another rogue shinobi. He slices through the air with his tanto, pushing further into the cave with every swing. 

Kakashi doesn’t notice Tenzō following behind him until their shoulders blades clumsily knock together as Kakashi backs up. “I can sense more around the corner,” Kakashi informs him.

They turn the corner together, perfectly synchronized. It’s as though they’ve been fighting side by side for years. Kakashi can feel Tenzō’s movements like electricity. He doesn’t need to look to know what he’s doing. The firelight gleams off his tanto as it curves around, flashing a sinister red as another rogue ninja falls to the ground. 

Tenzō battles one assassin with their katana poised to strike, but he quickly falls victim to the Mokuton. “Not too many left,” Tenzō says, his voice a bit breathless from the fight.

“Let’s finish this now.” They lock eyes. Tenzō’s gaze flickers over Kakashi’s shoulder. Before he knows what’s happening, he sees Tenzō clap his hands together into the Mokuton jutsu, wood shooting out of the cave’s ceiling and finishing off their final opponent.

Kakashi feels the electrical buzz again. His chest tightens and his lungs constrict. 

But something is very wrong.

It starts with a low rumbling, then the earth starts to shake. Bits of the cave’s ceiling start to crumble where the Mokuton crashed into the stone, and Kakashi’s eyes go wide.

This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening. 

He’s frozen. Fixed in place and unable to move a muscle. This is a nightmare. This is what he was dreaming about the night before. 

This is hell.

“Kakashi!” Tenzō screams at him, but he still can’t move. It’s all too familiar. 

He feels something hit his chest, and he staggers back. It takes Kakashi a moment to realize that Tenzō had lunged into him to move him out of the path of a boulder crashing to the ground right where he had been standing a just a moment before. 

“We have to get out of here!” Tenzō doesn’t wait for Kakashi to react. He grabs Kakashi by the arm and pulls him forward with all of his strength. 

Kakashi doesn’t even see the cave crumbling. His eyes are vacant. This is the end.

But at the sound of a scream erupting from Tenzō’s throat, ear shattering and primal, something in Kakashi snaps, shatters, crumbles like the ceiling of the cave. Tenzō lays crumpled on the rough cave floor, a rock near his head and a steady stream of blood flowing from his skull. 

Suddenly, he’s back in the cave with Obito. He sinks to his knees, seeing the boy half crushed by the rocks.

But this isn’t Obito. 

It’s Tenzō. 

_No_ , Kakashi thinks. _Not him too_.

Not _him!_

He surges forwards, snatching Tenzō up in his arms, and runs out of the cave at full speed, not daring to look back. 

When he makes it out, Kakashi sees Raidō and Genma brushing themselves off, shaken but not injured. He struggles to carry Tenzō over to them, his knees shaking so hard he doesn’t know how he’s standing at all, let alone carrying another man in his arms. They look up and see Kakashi struggling, running forwards to take Tenzō from him.

But Kakashi won’t let go.

They try to lift Tenzō up, but Kakashi’s iron grip digs into Tenzō’s arm and the side of his leg refusing to give. His knees finally fail him, and he falls onto them ignoring the pain shooting through his kneecaps. Kakashi lays Tenzō down on the ground, but refuses to let go for even one second. He violently shrugs off the hand Raidō had placed on his shoulder, leaning his head down onto Tenzō’s chest, shaking uncontrollably. 

Kakashi grips the fabric of Tenzō’s shirt with grimy fingernails, coated in blood and dirt. He can’t breathe. The shaking gets worse. All he can do his hold onto Tenzō, begging him not to let go.

Genma searches through his pouch for his medical supplies, getting to work on the gash running along the back of Tenzō’s head. Raidō, having given up on prying Kakashi off of Tenzō, unrolls his sleeping mat and places it over Tenzō like a blanket. 

“No, no no. Not him. Not him.” Kakashi begs over and over, his voice hoarse. 

Eventually, Raidō and Genma finish their work, satisfied that Tenzō won’t bleed out any time soon. 

“He’s going to be okay, Kakashi. He just needs to rest.” Raidō slowly crouches down next to him, not making any sudden movements. “Kakashi, he’s going to be okay.”

Kakashi feels faint. He sees spots in his vision. His body is almost entirely limp, curved over Tenzō’s unconscious form protectively. Raidō’s words allow him to slip away into a brief and welcome oblivion. 

The last words on his lips, _not him_.

 

  
When Kakashi wakes, his groggy memories work their way to the front of his mind with impossible speed, crashing around in his suddenly regained consciousness. He sits bolt upright, his head swimming, and he tries to open his eye. The sharp pain behind his eyes doesn’t stop him from trying again. 

Finally he manages to focus on his surroundings. Tenzō lies next to him in a small clearing somewhere in the forest. His chestnut brown hair is matted with blood and dirt, and his face is ghostly pale. But he’s breathing.

He’s breathing.

Kakashi watches the steady rise and fall of his chest, tears burning at the backs of his eyes. He reaches out and brushes the sticky bangs from Tenzō’s face slowly, letting his fingertips brush the pale skin underneath. 

Kakashi’s breath catches when he sees Tenzō’s eyelids flutter. His brow furrows, but his eyes remain closed, and Kakashi continues to gently caress his face with his fingertips. He smooths out the creases, willing Tenzō to relax with every touch. 

“Oh, you’re awake. Good. Here.” Genma shoves something into Kakashi’s unoccupied hand. Water. He takes a sip, savouring the sensation as it works its way down his parched and raged throat. When the canteen is empty, Kakashi places it down, looking up at Genma who stands and watches Kakashi with an unreadable expression. 

“Raidō went back to the cave to make sure there were no survivors, not that anyone could have survived that cave-in. He should be back soon.” 

Kakashi nods, then focus his attention back on Tenzō. 

How could Kakashi have been so stupid, so incredibly stupid and pathetic? How could he have stood there, wallowing in self-loathing and misery, waiting for the rocks to crush him? How could he have not heard Tenzō sooner? It’s all his fault. All of it. Tenzō looks like this, like a ghost, because of him. 

“It’s not your fault,” Genma says as though he can read Kakashi’s thoughts. But it is. Kakashi knows it and Genma knows it.

He simply continues to trace lines across Tenzō’s white skin, waiting for him to wake. 

 

  
When he finally does wake, the sun has set and Raidō has returned and reported no one surviving the cave-in. Kakashi holds his breath as Tenzō’s eyelids flutter again, and this time, he opens his eyes. Kakashi’s hand stills on Tenzō’s cheek, and brown eyes lock onto grey. 

“K-Kakashi-” Tenzō coughs. Kakashi grabs a refilled canteen and brings it to Tenzō’s chapped lips, helping him to sit up slightly as he drinks. When he’s finished, Kakashi helps him to lay back down. He reaches for Tenzō’s hand, gripping it tightly. He doesn’t know how to start, but suddenly the words are flowing out.

“I’m sorry, Tenzō. I- I’m so sorry. When the cave started coming down, I don’t know. I couldn’t move. It was just like- when he-” His voice dies in his throat. He’s never be able to talk about it.

Tenzō’s eyes never leave Kakashi’s, but he’s silent while Kakashi’s words sink in. 

“Obito?” Tenzō asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Kakashi tenses, but nods. “He was one of the names you kept repeating in your sleep.”

“You remind me of him a little. Rin too.” Kakashi looks down at their intertwined hands, and he feels Tenzō tighten his grip faintly. He can’t believe he’s talking about this. “You have his spirit, his Will of Fire. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you. And you have Rin’s spirit in you too. Her loyalty.”

Kakashi finally looks back into Tenzō’s eyes, and there’s that look again. The one that’s overflowing with an emotion that he can’t quite place. 

It somehow reminds him of his former team. And it hurts. It hurts like nothing he’s felt since they died. Their loss is like a kunai lodged in his chest, perpetually pushing on his heart, a cut that won’t quite heal, but with Tenzō, the feeling is like a fresh cut. It burns. 

But it’s also the most alive Kakashi has felt in years. In almost a decade. 

Suddenly, he recognizes what he’s been feeling this whole time. It crashes over him like a wave that drags him out to sea, too far out for him to ever have a hope of returning to shore. He sits there, Tenzō’s hand in his, and lets it wash over him.

Love.


	2. The Kunai Drops

_warp theory the real what is real  
Night draws the planet tremulous_  
-Susan Howe

Love?

_Love?_

Kakashi bangs his head against the table in the waiting room repeatedly. It does nothing to numb the searing realization. Kakashi is, in fact, capable of love. 

And it terrifies him.

Giving up on his head-banging when a nurse walks by and gives him a dirty look, Kakashi settles for anxiously tapping his foot. Normally, he’s calm, collected… basically the opposite of how he’s acting right now. But he can’t help it. This is all his fault. He’s sitting in the hospital waiting room, painfully awaiting any news on Tenzō’s medical examination, all because of his dumb mistake. 

Kakashi shifts in his seat, keeping a sporadic rhythm with his foot while his mind wanders back to the cave, back to his reaction. His realization. 

_Love_ , he repeats again in his mind. It actually explains a lot. How he was feeling, how he was acting. The way he couldn’t take his eyes off Tenzō, the way he could sense his presence like electricity even when he couldn’t see him. 

And yet, how could Kakashi, in the span of one mission, have fallen for his kouhai? He didn’t know he was capable of love any more, let alone at this alarming speed. 

Kakashi remembers with painful clarity the feeling of love being ripped away from him. First his father abandoning him, leaving him alone, taking his own life when he had acted out of love. He chose to save his team rather than salvage the mission, and somehow this act of love had been twisted into the very thing that destroyed him. Love killed Kakashi’s father. 

He shivers when he vividly remembers the horror of finding his father curled up on the floor, blood pooling around the sword still held firmly in his fists. The tanto may have been the weapon that ended his life, but it was love that drove the blade into his chest. Love for his teammates, love for his village, love for his honour, love for his son, whom he believed would live a better life if he wasn’t in it. 

And then there was Obito. 

Obito, who was Kakashi’s rival, who pushed him harder and farther than anyone else. He was the first person Kakashi would never admit he wanted to be acknowledged by. The person who forced Kakashi to reevaluate himself, his resolve to follow the rules, his avoidance of his father’s legacy. Obito taught him to love his father again, taught him to love again.

And then he died.

He died saving Kakashi from the cave-in, pushing him out of the way and getting crushed in the process. He died saving his best friends, both of whom he loved. Kakashi was always amazed by Obito’s capacity for love. He loved Kakashi enough to lead him back to his father. He loved his village so much that he vowed to give his life to protect it and become the hokage. He loved Rin, loved her with everything he had. Kakashi could never quite fathom the depth of Obito’s love for her, didn’t think he ever could. But now?

And Rin’s love. Rin’s love for Obito never died. She carried it with her every day, and Kakashi could see it pressing down on her. She loved her village too, even when she was kidnapped and turned into a weapon of war. She loved her village enough to die for it, and she did. She died at Kakashi’s hand, chidori plunged through her heart. But that jutsu also ripped out _his_ heart that night. 

Minato and Kushina loved their village and their son so much that they both sacrificed themselves to save them. They also died for their love. 

And they left Kakashi alone.

So he built up walls. He sheltered himself from the feelings of others, pushing away anyone who could get close enough to love him. To hurt him. And he had been successful until now.

But Tenzō, in just a few days, with just a few words, with kindness and compassion and fire, had shattered his defences. Tenzō had looked into Kakashi’s eyes and seen the loss, the pain, the walls, and he didn’t back away. Rather than seeing the guards and keeping his distance like everyone else in Kakashi’s life, Tenzō had run ahead at full speed, straight toward Kakashi. 

And now Kakashi doesn’t know what to do. Does he build up his walls again? Does he let Tenzō in? Let love in? 

A voice in the back of his mind says _father, Obito, Rin, Minato, Kushina_. It tells him love is pain. Love is death. 

He shakes his head and slumps back in the plastic clair, his head hitting the wall behind him with a thump. He’s been waiting for news of Tenzō’s condition for hours. He can’t take it much longer. Kakashi rubs his eye, seeing stars, and tries to relax and focus on his breathing. 

In. Out. In. Out. 

 

Kakashi is surrounded by darkness. 

He tries to relieve the pressure on his eyes by opening them only to realize that they’re already open. _Where am I?_ He thinks. 

There’s a glimmer of light in the distance. He runs toward it, feeling the darkness start to press in on him. He repeatedly stumbles, falling onto his hands and knees, ignoring the pain shooting up his limbs and the sting of fresh cuts on his palms. 

Kakashi approaches the light source, a fire, and glances around the area illuminated by the red glow. All around him, shadows jump out, flicker, and dive back into the darkness. His skin crawls and his stomach clenches. He knows something terrible is about to happen. He tries to back away from the fire, but…

_Oh no. No, no, no, no._

He can’t move. It’s happening again. 

The light flickers, and Kakashi sees a shadowy shape on the ground. He tries to look away, but his eyes are transfixed. Obito? He can’t tell. It’s too dark.

There’s a low rumbling sound, and Kakashi can feel it in his bones. It send shivers down his spine. 

The light flares up, illuminating the body. Then his stomach drops.

_Tenzō._

_No!_ He wants to scream, but the sound gets stuck in his throat, choking him. He can’t breathe and he can’t move and he can’t look away. 

A shadow impossibly blacker than the surrounding shadows emerges. Kakashi can’t hear over the sound of his heart beating like it’s about to burst and the blood rushing in his head, pounding and threatening to make him deaf. 

He tastes the distinct coppery flavour of blood in his mouth and forces his eyes down. There’s a tanto lodged in his chest, blood streaming down his legs and dripping onto the cave floor. Kakashi keels over, landing hard on his side, but he doesn’t notice the sickly snap of bone on rock. He’s captivated by the figure he can now see hovering over Tenzō. 

It’s him.

It’s five year old Kakashi standing over the body, but his eyes are focused on Kakashi curled up on the ground, slowly bleed out. 

“Father?” The boy asks. 

The ground shakes, and suddenly Kakashi is in the exact place his five year old self was a moment before. He stares over to where he had been lying and chokes on a cry. Sakumo lies there, tanto lodged in his chest and life drained from his apologetic eyes. 

The ground rumbles again, and his father is gone. 

Kakashi collapses to his knees in front of Tenzō. Brown eyes swimming with emotion meet his. “Kakashi-senpai,” he croaks. “Is this why you can’t sleep?”

_What?_ Kakashi wants to ask, but his throat is still constricted, aching with the blood curdling scream that’s tearing inside his lungs but can’t escape. Too late, he realizes his arms are raised, kunai firmly grasped by both of his hands. 

_No!_

But it’s too late. His arms are already shooting down, the kunai plunging towards Tenzō’s heart, a look of sympathy and something else entirely in his eyes as they meet Kakashi’s for the last time. 

 

Kakashi gasps, shooting out of his seat. He stumbles to find his bearings as the blood rushes from his head. 

He’s in the hospital waiting room. He breathes. 

“Sir?” A nurse approaches him with a concerned look. “Sir, are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?” 

Kakashi tries to keep his voice even, but his shaking hands give him away. “N- no, I’m alright. I’m waiting for a patient though. Can you tell me if Tenzō is out of his examination?” 

While the nurse skims her clipboard, Kakashi closes his eye, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. The shaking hasn’t gone away entirely, but he’s trying to get himself under control. 

“Yes, he’s out and currently resting in room 45.” 

Before she can even look up from the paper, Kakashi is gone. He speeds off in search of the room, hoping that there won’t be bad news when he gets there. 

Other than the gash on the back of Tenzō’s head, Genma had assessed that he had at least one broken rib and likely a sprained wrist. They had rushed him back to the village, because none of them specialized in medical ninjutsu and didn’t want to take any chances that there was more internal damage, especially to his head. 

After he woke up and briefly talked to Kakashi, Tenzō had been unable to stay awake for more than an hour, and Kakashi suspected he also had a concussion or possibly even worse. The whole way back to the village, Kakashi carried Tenzō on his back, and he still feels oddly light without the younger man’s weight pressed on him. Though he does feel a sharp tightness in his chest that won’t go away. 

When Kakashi reaches room 45, he pauses outside the door to catch his breath. He’s completely out of his element, scared. But he knows that he needs to see him. 

He timidly pushes open the door, slipping through the opening before immediately closing it behind himself. Then his gaze falls on Tenzō. He’s sitting up in the uncomfortable looking hospital bed, blanket kicked to his feet, eyes trained on Kakashi. Kakashi’s heart palpitates at the look in his eyes. The dark brown irises pierce into him despite the purple bags sagging underneath. 

“How are you?” Kakashi’s voice is barely more than a whisper. It’s all he can manage without emotion taking over entirely.

“Well, they said that with the size of the gouge on my head, I’m lucky not to have a more serious concussion. It seems to be healed pretty well though. And they fixed my broken rib and wrist. I’m totally fine other than a splitting headache and some bruising.” His lips turn up into a tentative smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. They look more concerned.

“But how are you? You really had me worried, Kakashi-senpai.” 

Kakashi lets out a breathless, shaky laugh at that. Of course Tenzō, after spending the majority of the day in the hospital, would be more concerned for someone else. 

_For me_ , Kakashi thinks. His stomach clenches. 

Tenzō gestures for Kakashi to sit, so he slowly approaches the bed and lowers himself down, careful not the sit on the discarded blanket in case Tenzō gets cold. He reluctantly makes eye contact with the same brown eyes that had haunted his dream. “I’ve just been worried about you. I know I apologized before, but I need to-”

Tenzō cuts him off by placing a hand on his leg. The warmth spreads all the way from Kakashi’s thigh to his cheeks, and he suddenly wishes he was wearing his ANBU mask so that his face could be covered entirely. 

“Kakashi, don’t apologize. Sure, I pushed you out of the way, but you’re the one that carried me out. You’re the one that stayed with me and never let go. The one that carried me all the way back to the village and waited for me here.” 

He pauses, but his hand remains a source of warmth and comfort on Kakashi’s thigh. The strange emotion Kakashi can’t quite comprehend is back in Tenzō’s eyes, flickering almost like fire. Tenzō’s hand tightens slightly as he continues. “Thank you.” 

Kakashi is completely overwhelmed. He doesn’t even realize that he’s moving his hand until he feels it placed over Tenzō’s, resting on his leg. Their fingers lace together easily as Kakashi takes it all in. They’re impossibly warm and reassuring. Comforting. 

“I’m just so glad that you’re okay,” Kakashi mutters, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly. Tenzō smiles as his eyes slowly droop closed, and Kakashi continues. “I’ll leave you so you can get some rest.”

Kakashi reclaims his hand and pulls the toothpaste green blanket back over Tenzō’s legs as he gets up to leave. When he releases the blanket up near Tenzō’s chest, Tenzō grabs his hand. Kakashi’s heart stops for a full beat.

“Stay?” 

It’s so quiet that if Tenzō hadn’t grabbed his hand, Kakashi probably would have thought he imagined it. The feeling in his chest tightens again, sharp and painful, but he chooses to ignore it for now, instead relishing in the warmth radiating from Tenzō’s hand and the relief that washes over him when he looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Of course.”

Kakashi grabs a chair and drags it closer to the side of the bed, never once letting go of Tenzō’s hand. He sits and cautiously rubs his thumb in small circles around the back of Tenzō’s hand, watching in awe as the he slowly drifts off to sleep, a smile still splayed across his lips. 

Kakashi revels in the steady rise and fall of the younger man’s chest, letting it lull him into a sense of calm. When he’s certain Tenzō is asleep, he lets himself gently sweep the tangles off of his forehead, combing through the brown mess with something akin to reverence. He feels himself flooding with relief at the colour that has mostly returned to his kouhai’s cheeks. 

Before he can stop himself, before he even realizes he’s doing it, Kakashi preses his lips to Tenzō’s forehead, near his hairline, nose pressed into the soft brown strands. He freezes when Tenzō shifts slightly, and his lips part as though he’s talking in his sleep. But after a moment, he stills again, his brow relaxing into a peaceful expression. 

Kakashi lets out a sigh and leans back in his chair, trying to get more comfortable. But not too comfortable. He doesn’t want to sleep. He doesn’t think he can handle another dream like the one he had in the waiting room. It’s just too much. Too soon. And it’s Tenzō. 

Kakashi lets his mind wander as his gaze drifts to his lips. It’s _Tenzō_. 

 

Kakashi starts when he hears a noise. He sits up, blinking. When had he fallen asleep? 

He stakes his head, trying to clear out the grogginess. When was the last time he slept without waking in the pure terror of a nightmare? Not for years at least. Maybe Tenzō is good for him, has a calming effect. Maybe, just maybe, Kakashi won’t hurt him. Won’t be hurt by him.

A crackling sound brings him fully out of his sleepy daze. It almost sounds like the chirping of birds. But it’s dark outside, the dregs of morning light not yet strewn across the indigo sky. So where is the noise coming from? 

Kakashi looks around the room, but it’s dark. 

Except it’s not entirely dark. Tenzō’s face is lit up, glowing almost iridescently against the white and green of the hospital bed. But Kakashi can’t see the source of the light from where he’s sitting, plastic seat resting as close as possible to the head of the bed.

He stands up, his spine tingling and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Slowly, slowly, he leans over Tenzō. The crackling, buzzing noise grows louder the closer he gets. And his hand starts to buzz too. Kakashi can feel it spread from his shoulder all the way down to his fingertips through his veins as though they’re circulating electricity rather than blood. 

The glow gets brighter, illuminating the room in a sickly, pale blue, and Kakashi can taste ozone in the air. His gaze sweeps from Tenzō’s pale face down to his chest.

And his heart stops.

_No!_ Kakashi shouts, but his voice is drowned out by the sinister crackling of electricity. Slightly left of the centre of Tenzō’s chest, right where his heart should be, there’s a hole. Blood gushes out of it as fizzles of blue lightning skate across the gaping cavity. 

Kakashi lifts his right hand in horror as the chidori meets his gaze. 

“ _You_ did this,” a voice accuses from a dark corner. “ _You_ did this to him.” 

The figure steps out of the shadows and into the sharp flicker of electricity. 

_Rin_. 

Kakashi can’t breathe. He feels like he’s choking on his heart, which must be lodged in his throat, beating frantically and cutting off his air supply. 

Rin steps closer to the bed, glancing down at Tenzō, her expression unreadable. Kakashi’s arm is still raised, chidori burning his fingers with electrical fire, but he can’t unactivate the jutsu. Rin’s eyes flow from Tenzō up to Kakashi’s hand, and finally rests on his face, still slack and frozen in terror. 

“You did this to us.” 

She gestures down to her own chest, where blood is seeping out of a similar hole, still faintly glowing blue. 

Kakashi is going to be sick. 

Her words repeat over and over in his head. _You did this. You did this to us_. 

Kakashi’s voice breaks as he cries, “Rin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t seem to have heard him at all, as she points to Tenzō’s chest, and Kakashi’s eyes follow unwillingly. “This is what love does, Kakashi. It rips your heart out.”

Kakashi’s eyes are burning and his heart is pounding and his stomach is churning and he can’t breathe. He tears his eyes away from Tenzō, looking back to Rin.

But she’s gone. She’s gone, and Kakashi feels like she stabbed a hole right through his chest too. It aches. It _burns_. 

_You did this. You did this to us_.

 

Kakashi gulps in deep breaths of air. He can’t bring himself to move, but every nerve ending in his whole body is hyperaware. He feels something on his head, and he’s about to flinch away instinctively when he realizes that someone is running their hand through his hair, soothing him. 

“Kakashi, you’re alright now. You’re safe.”

Once he has his breathing under control, Kakashi slowly starts to sit up. His face had been pressed into the side of Tenzō’s hospital bed, his arms curled around his head, and his hands digging into the sheets.

Tenzō lets his hand drop from Kakashi’s silver hair to his shaking hand as Kakashi turns towards him, eyes stinging. 

“I tried to wake you when you started talking, well I guess it was more like whimpering, but then you woke on your own.” His hand tightens around Kakashi’s, but Kakashi can’t meet his gaze directly.

“Did- what did I say?” He refuses to look into Tenzō’s face, afraid of what he might see, what he might do if he sees an unharmed Tenzō looking at him the way he sometimes does. The way that makes his chest tight and his breath catch in his throat. 

“You mentioned that name again. Rin. But,” Tenzō falters, and Kakashi can’t help himself. He steals a glance at Tenzō, his brown eyes dark with emotion. “You also said my name. You sounded so sad. So terrified. Kakashi, what can I do?” 

Kakashi’s heart falters when he sees the sincerity in Tenzō’s eyes, the devotion. 

“I- nothing. I can’t-” He cuts himself off, quickly pulling away. 

In a second, he’s at the door, already slipping through it.

“I can’t.”

 

Kakashi hates himself. He really, really hates himself. 

A wooden post explodes as he hits it with one final punch. He sinks down to the dirt, lying pathetically in the middle of an abandoned training ground in the outskirts of Konoha at three in the morning. 

He can’t bring himself to move from the packed dirt, a rock digging into his shoulder, his arms and legs burning with the hours he had spent thrashing around the old training ground. Normally, in a good training session, Kakashi can bleed himself of his anxiety or his frustration as he sweats away his worries, but it’s not working this time. He’s physically fatigued, but more than that, he’s mentally exhausted. He feels like he could sleep for a year. But he refuses to let himself sleep, simply curled in the dust and wood splinters, heaving deeply. 

It’s completely silent. 

He stares up at the cold night sky, ignoring the chill seeping into his bones as his sweat cools. An icy breeze sweeps over the field causing the overgrown grass to sway and ripple. The edges brush against Kakashi’s toes, stretched out from the patch of dirt where the training post once stood. But not even the uncomfortable sensation of something brushing against his foot can motivate him to move. 

So he lies there, eyes stretched open despite the late hour, refusing even to close his lids and rest his stinging eyes. He would probably be content to lay here forever, if only he could stay awake that long. 

A soft murmur curls in the breeze, winding through the bending grasses, and Kakashi’s ears perk as he strains to hear the noise more clearly. As he listens, two distinct voices emerge. 

It wouldn’t be unusual to run into someone else at a training ground no matter the time of night, but this training ground hasn’t been in use for years. The wooden posts are mostly rotted away, and any that were left Kakashi had quickly finished off. Grass and trees and time claimed the majority of the clearing, leaving the circumference overgrown. Kakashi only knows about it, because the training ground is close to his childhood home, now left abandoned much like this training area, untouched by any except those living more in memories than the present.

_So who would be walking around here in the middle of the night?_ Kakashi questions. 

He lies impossibly still, listening to the voices as they drift by. It’s some sort of conversation about orders and shipments, not particularly piquing Kakashi’s interest. But then he hears one of them mention Danzo. 

Danzo is a name Kakashi recognizes immediately. A name shrouded in mystery and darkness. 

Kakashi has heard whispers about him at the ANBU headquarters. Nothing solid. Nothing concrete. Danzo himself is a shadow, blending into the dark corners of Konoha, illusive and fleeting when examined in the light. And at the mention of his name, Kakashi slowly begins to get up, first crouching and then slinking through the tall grasses in pursuit of the fading voices. 

He follows at a distance, carefully cloaking his chakra. The two shinobi, dressed all in black and shielded by ANBU masks, walk parallel to a wall of granite, one running his hand along the smooth surface of the cliff. They halt suddenly, and the man drops his hand, gesturing for the other man to examine the cliff face. He raises his hand to the rock again, pressing what appears to be too lightly for the rock to shift, but it does. 

A door-like crevice opens up in the stone, and the two masked shinobi slip through as Kakashi watches from the shadow of the trees. He counts five minutes before he allows himself to follow. He runs his hands over the smooth, stony surface, trying to locate where the previous man had pushed. His hand stops when it senses a slight change in temperature and the subtle buzz of chakra. It must be a seal. 

Kakashi infuses his chakra into it, allowing the seal to activate. As he pushes, the stone slides back. He’s much too curious to stop here. He goes through the opening, and the rock slides shut behind him as silently as it opened. 

Torches line what appears to be a hallway carved into the stone, and he follows the winding corridor with anticipation. As the floor slopes down, the air becomes more chill, and goosebumps erupt over Kakashi’s neck and arms. He slows when he starts to pick up the voices he had previously been following, creeping silently along the edge of the hallway. 

To his right, a door stands ajar, voices carrying through the opening. 

“Danzo-sama wants the next shipment to be ready in two weeks. We’ll have to go grab the rest of the pills and bring them here.” 

Kakashi freezes. What would Danzo be doing with pills? Pills that he’s hiding in a secret underground facility. Something about it doesn’t feel right. He listens for more clues as to what exactly is going on here.

“Yeah, he needs them to be ready for the new ROOT recruits.” 

The other man scoffs, adding, “Because there aren’t enough pills here to last a lifetime.”

_ROOT?_ Kakashi turns this new information over in his mind. He has to get a look at what’s in the room. He inches closer to the door, stealing a glance around the frame. Shelves and shelves of boxes fill up the space. The two shinobi Kakashi followed are sorting through papers spread out across a long lab table. 

He sees his chance and ducks into the room while their backs are turned, concealing himself behind the tall shelves. He peers out between boxes, watching carefully. 

The two masked shinobi find what they’re looking for, and one folds the paper while the other checks something off on a chipboard. Then, they start to move towards the door, glancing around the room as they exit. Kakashi doesn’t dare breathe until he can no longer hear their footsteps receding down the hall. 

Kakashi slips out from behind the shelf and heads straight for the lab table. Test tubes and beakers filled with an assortment of sinister looking liquids line the back of the table against the wall, while papers are strewn in front and spread along the table’s length. Kakashi is more interested in the papers than the chemicals, so he scans the pages in search of something that will enlighten him as to what Danzo is up to in this makeshift lab. 

Kakashi flips through a stack of papers that appear to be orders of something. The pill, he guesses. Every few weeks, crates of the stuff get sent off to another location, only specified on the paper as _Facility 3_. 

Kakashi wonders at the scale of this, quite literally underground, operation. 

He replaces the orders, careful to arrange them back into the exact position they were in before. Next, his gaze sweeps over some sort of chemical blueprints. He examines it closely, not understanding most of it, but acknowledging its importance. He commits it all to memory. 

The only words that make sense to him are at the top of the page. _Test batch 19. Code name: the Cure. Chemical composition: Arsenic trioxide. Initial tests successful, objective fulfilled, subjects emotions were successfully suppressed_. Kakashi’s heartbeat quickens as he read, his stomach clenching. He continues, _Long term side effects to be determined. Recommended dosage, one pill per 12 hours_. 

He sets down the paper, his hand shaking. Could this really work? Could this one pill really rid someone entirely of emotion? It seems too good to be true. But Kakashi can’t help himself.

He turns and scans the boxes lining the shelves. He opens one, his fingers working slowly to combat the shaking. Kakashi stops when he finally gets the lid off the box. Inside, hundreds of bottles are packed tightly. He draws one out, eyeing the contents. A handful of small, clear pills meet his gaze. He turns the bottle over in his hands, reading the label. _The Cure. 1 pill every 12 hours. Do not exceed recommended dosage_. 

Kakashi’s fingers slip as he attempts to twist off the top, hands slicked with sweat. He tries to focus on his breathing, calming himself as he wipes his hands on his sweats to dry them. But it’s no use. Kakashi’s heart is beating so loudly he wouldn’t even hear if the two masked shinobi came back. 

He stops himself, placing the bottle on the shelf. _What am I doing?_ He asks, mentally reprimanding himself for being so reckless. _I can’t take an experimental drug. This is completely idiotic, not to mention extremely dangerous_. 

But the voice is back.

_Father?_

_Is this why you can’t sleep?_

_You did this._

_You did this to us._

_You did this to him._

_This is what love does, Kakashi. It rips your heart out_.

And Kakashi is going to be sick. He bends over, heaving. His nails dig into his palms until they draw blood. His body violently shakes, and it’s all he can do to remain upright, crouched against the tall metal shelf. 

He feels the kunai in his chest twist viciously, and the pain causes him to see stars in his vision.

Kakashi would give just about anything for the bliss of apathy. Not to feel this horrible pain. Not to feel.

He gulps in lungfuls of air, making a decision. He reaches for the bottle again, twists the cap off, and shakes it until a pill slides onto his palm. It doesn’t look particularly dangerous, just a small, transparent circle. He takes another deep breath, resolving himself to his next action. 

He pops the pill in his mouth, head tilting back as he swallows. 

The pill slides down his dry throat, and Kakashi feels the chemicals spreading like wildfire through his bloodstream. His veins are on fire. Everything burns. His vision goes black, then fades slowly into grey as the light starts to filter through his dilated pupils.

As he adjusts to the brightness, numbness spreads through his body, leaching outward from his chest down through his arms and legs. First it tingles. 

Then he feels nothing at all.


	3. Affect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a big thank you to serendipitousDescent!
> 
> I'm going to try to update every week regularly, most likely on Saturdays, so stay tuned!

Glide my shadow through  
time curtains will dwindle  
Far be it from me whatever  
reaction splits into willing  
things absolute but absent  
-Susan Howe

Tenzō wakes with a start. Blood rushes to his head as he sits up, trying to focus on his surroundings. His eyes are blurry with spots of light clouding his vision, but he can hear a persistent beeping noise, and everything smells like antiseptic. _The hospital_ , Tenzō realizes.

“Here, lay back down,” a voice says, commanding but soft. Tenzō feels himself being gently pushed back down onto the stacked pillows. “We’re just running a few tests. Most of your injuries have been taken care of with medical ninjutsu, but you have a concussion. You need your rest.”

Tenzō doesn’t resist, gladly settling back down into the bed. His body aches all the way from his muscles down to his bones. His head is pounding viciously, and he feels slightly nauseous. 

He tries to speak, but his voice comes out in a cracked, dry whisper. “K-Kakashi?”

Tenzō struggles to sit up again as the events of the mission come flooding back to him with full force, but the hands are back on his shoulders, pressing him down again, a little more forcefully this time.

“He’s fine. He’s in the waiting area, tapping his damn foot so loudly we can hear it a floor away. I’ll send someone to inform him of your condition once the test results are back.”

Tenzō finally lets himself relax entirely. His eyes are too heavy to open, his mouth is desert dry, his chest is tight as though it’s being crushed by a boulder, and his head feels like it’s repeatedly being stabbed by a kunai. Even if he wanted to get up and run through the hospital looking for his senpai, he seriously doubts he could make it there before collapsing or being dragged back to his room by this rather forceful nurse. 

Instead, he sighs, slowly drifting back to sleep.

He dreams of Kakashi.

 

 

This is the day they met. Tenzō sits in the waiting room, awkwardly shifting in his chair, unsure of where to look. He focuses on his sandals, hands curled in his lap as he wrings them in anticipation. Today is his first day in ANBU. He meets his new team today. Tenzō’s stomach churns as he tries his best to maintain a calm appearance. On the inside, though, it’s another story entirely. 

_You passed all of the ANBU entrance tests. They selected you. You proved how capable you are. Don’t screw it up now. Don’t repeat the past. You can’t afford to be overly emotional._ Tenzō mentally berates himself. 

He has to remind himself to breathe. He glances around the room, looking for something to focus on to distract his overactive imagination. 

Tenzō’s eyes are immediately drawn to him. A man with shockingly grey hair, sticking up at odd angles, a cloth mask shielding most of his face, a hitai-ate covering his left eye from view. But that’s not what makes Tenzō’s breath catch in his throat. It’s the dark, piercing grey eye, staring directly back at him. 

Tenzō almost falls sideways out of his chair, but he manages to catch himself before he can make even more of a fool of himself in front of an ANBU shinobi. He quickly breaks eye contact, his gaze snapping back down to the floor as though there’s something pressing he needs to focus on etched into the linoleum tiles. Tenzō tries to hide his face from view, but he knows his cheeks must be flushed like an idiot. 

He risks glancing up again when he feels like he’s back in control of his heated cheeks. The grey haired man is looking down at the papers stacked in front of him, his pen scratching away on the paper. Tenzō sighs inaudibly in relief. He’s no longer the subject of this man’s startling attention. 

Tenzō allows himself to examine the other man more closely. His hair is more silver than grey, Tenzō notes. It doesn’t look dyed, but he reasons that it can’t be from age. This shinobi doesn’t look like he’s much older than twenty, clearly Tenzō’s senpai, but not by many years. 

His facial features are mostly indiscernible under the hitai-ate and mask, but his visible eye crinkles as he fills out his paperwork. Tenzō wishes he could see what’s under the mask. With only his one eye visible and crinkling in the corner, he looks almost like he’s smiling. But Tenzō can’t be sure with the damn mask in the way. 

Objectively, at least from what Tenzō can see, the man appears to be handsome. Other than the mysteriously covered regions of his face, he looks fair but not at all delicate. In fact, beneath his form fitting shirt, he appears to be well muscled. More muscular than Tenzō, who’s still admittedly filling out. 

Tenzō has to shake his head to clear out these thoughts. He can feel the heat stinging his cheeks again. He doesn’t want his team’s first impression of him to be as that awkward, anxious guy, but he really doesn’t want that he stares at attractive ANBU shinobi while blushing like an idiot tacked onto it too. 

He decides that it’s safer to go back to staring intently at the floor. But as soon as he does, his neck prickles, short hairs standing on end. It’s that indescribable and eerie feeling that someone’s eyes are on him, or rather eye, as the silver haired man is the only one other than Tenzō currently in the room. 

After what feels like an eternity with that dark eye trained on him, someone else enters the room. Tenzō sneaks a look at the newcomer, but he doesn’t want to get caught staring again. He’s average height with brown hair partially pulled back in a navy blue bandana and a senbon sticking out the corner of his mouth. Tenzō notes that me must be in his early twenties as well. 

The man strolls right up to the silver haired shinobi but doesn’t say anything. He merely watches with a slightly amused face as the other man’s pen hovers over the page, frozen in his grasp. His grey eye is back on Tenzō, and he wills himself not to turn red under the man’s scrutiny. 

“Kakashi,” the brunet says after a minute of silence.

“Kakashi?” He tries again, this time sounding more exasperated. He waves his hand in front of the other man’s face, finally catching his attention.

Tenzō sighs in relief, the piercing gaze no longer fixed on him. But his mind is spinning. _Kakashi. Where has he heard that name before?_

Suddenly it hits him. Hatake Kakashi, the famous Copy-nin. Kakashi of the Sharingan. 

_Idiot_ , Tenzō’s mind screams at him. _You should have recognized him from the description in the bingo book!_

He had heard stories about Kakashi growing up, had been amazed by the tales of his genius like everyone else. He was a legend by the time he was Tenzō’s age, but Tenzō had never once seen him until today. 

His stomach flips, heart racing. What was a legend like him doing staring at an ordinary shinobi like Tenzō anyways? He has no clue, and he taps his foot anxiously, no longer able to suppress his anticipation. Tenzō absent-mindedly runs his hand along the side of his metal face-protector, a nervous habit he could never quite kick, looking anywhere but directly at Kakashi. 

Tenzō jumps when the brunet shinobi approaches, speaking to him. “Hi, you must be Tenzō. I’m Shiranui Genma. You’re the newest member of our team.”

Genma gestures over to Kakashi as he says “our team,” causing Tenzō to choke on his own saliva and splutter like an idiot. He’s going to be on a team with Hatake Kakashi. _The_ Hatake Kakashi. Suddenly, Tenzō feels completely inadequate in every way. Even more than he did before he entered the ANBU headquarters this morning. Even more than when he was blushing under the silver haired stranger’s gaze. 

_Shit!_ Tenzō thinks. _I’ve already made an idiot of myself in front of him._

Tenzō’s attention is immediately drawn to Kakashi again. And this time, Kakashi is looking at him and getting up, quickly approaching them. He stops next to Genma, but his eye never leave Tenzō’s. 

“Kakashi, this is Tenzō.” Genma says with a smirk, addressing him but gesturing to where Tenzō sits frozen in his chair. “Like I was saying before while you were so rudely day dreaming, he’s the newest member of our team. He’s been fully briefed on our mission.” 

Tenzō forces himself up through sheer will power, trying his best to wipe his sweating palms on his thighs without drawing attention to the movement. His eyes are still locked on Kakashi’s, and he feels almost as though there’s some sort of current connecting them in this moment, electrical and pulsing. His body buzzes, his tongue tingling. 

Kakashi extends his hand, his voice surprisingly soft. “Hatake Kakashi, ANBU Captain for Team Nine.”

Tenzō firmly grips his outstretched hand, and for the split second their hands connect, Tenzō’s heart falters. Then they release. But Tenzō’s hand still tingles where Kakashi had held it.

“Tenzō,” Tenzō says in response. “Pleased to meet you, Hatake Kakashi.” 

He expectantly looks between the two shinobi, his new teammates, waiting for one of them to speak. He’s still in shock. 

Hatake Kakashi. _Hatake Kakashi._

Tenzō thinks fanboy isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he feels. Awestruck, maybe. Intoxicated. 

Tenzō is drawn out of his momentary stupor when Kakashi ammends, “Kakashi.” 

Tenzō can’t help it. The corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a smile. Maybe he hasn’t screwed this up entirely. Maybe there’s hope for him yet. 

Before Tenzō realizes what he’s saying, he corrects him. “Kakashi-senpai.” 

_Oh crap, was that too much? Was that too flirtatious?_ But Tenzō can’t wipe off the idiotic grin spread across his face. And Kakashi’s eyes are crinkling. Hell, he’s chuckling. The soft sound makes Tenzō’s stomach drop and his head spin. 

_Yes, definitely intoxicating._

“We should head out.” Kakashi says to them as he glances over to Genma, who has been silent for the majority of this strange interaction. “You know how much Raidō hates to be kept waiting.”

At this, however, he rolls his eyes, shifting the senbon in his mouth as he nods at Kakashi. Then his gaze falls on Tenzō.

“Think you can keep up, rookie?”

 

 

When Tenzō wakes again, he knows where he is immediately. He’s in the hospital. This time, he’s a lot less groggy, and he feels less like he’s going to keel over at any second. 

The same nurse is back, bustling around his room, clipboard in hand. When Tenzō moves to get up, she approaches, her eyes silently scolding him. She sighs, flipping back to the first page on the board as she addresses him.

“Your test results came back, and you’re fine for now. Your broken ribs and wrist are all healed up, but you’ll need to make sure you rest lots before your next mission.” 

Tenzō breathes out a shaky sigh. He’s lucky for sure. It could have been much worse. But the look the nurse gives him makes his sigh catch in his throat. Her steely eyes sweep him up and down as she frowns.

“Your concussion won’t heal overnight, so you have to be careful. Try not to get hit on the head by a boulder again, won’t you.” 

And with that, she replaces the clipboard at the end of his bed, moving to the door. “I’ll go have someone to inform your boyfriend that he can see you now.”

“H-he’s not my-”

But Tenzō’s cut off by the door closing behind the nurse on the way out. 

“-boyfriend.” He mutters, finishing off the sentence even though there’s no one to hear it.

The quietly uttered word fills the room, ringing in his ears. Tenzō shakes his head to clear the almost tangible word from his thoughts, causing his head to swim. He can practically taste it. And it’s not a flavour he’s familiar with. 

But it’s not bad.

Tenzō immediately feels his face flush, and the warmth spreads throughout his body. Suddenly, he’s too hot. He kicks down the blanket that had been pulled back over him by the nurse, sitting up and shoving the lumpy hospital pillows, attempting in vain to get comfortable. 

He focuses on breathing, trying to will the redness in his face away before Kakashi sees him. Not that it would make much of a difference to his appearance. He must look terrible. 

And it’s with that depressing thought that the door slowly slides open. 

Kakashi enters, almost timidly. He closes the door behind him and finally makes eye contact with Tenzō, his one grey eye darker for the greyish ring surrounding it. He doesn’t look to hot either right now. Even his normally gravity defying quaf looks more dishevelled than styled. 

His voice is quiet but gravelly as he speaks for the first time. “How are you?” 

Tenzō tries to lighten the mood, forcing on a slight smile as he responds. “Well, they said that with the size of the gouge on my head, I’m lucky not to have a more serious concussion. It seems to be healed pretty well though. And they fixed my broken rib and wrist. I’m totally fine other than a splitting headache and some bruising.” 

Tenzō doesn’t really care about his condition though. He’s fine. Really. He’s much more worried for his senpai. He doesn’t look like he’s slept since the mission, and even on the mission, he hadn’t really slept. At least not peacefully.

“But how are you? You really had me worried, Kakashi-senpai.” 

Tenzō is taken aback when Kakashi lets out a breathless, shaky laugh. This must be awkward for him too. Both of them are acting more than a little out of their stations here. Kakashi is his captain, but surely he didn’t have to sit in the hospital for hours, waiting for word of his kouhai’s condition. It’s not like Tenzō was actually in mortal danger when they got him back to the hospital. And Genma and Raidō aren’t here. It’s just Kakashi.

That has to mean _something_. 

And the way Kakashi had looked at him, the way he had screamed out his name in the cave. That had been something else entirely. Raw and full of emotion. 

It has to mean something. It _has_ to.

Tenzō makes the first move, gesturing for Kakashi to come closer and sit with him. Kakashi hesitantly lowers himself onto the edge of Tenzō’s bed. When Kakashi meets his eyes, he starts. “I’ve just been worried about you. I know I apologized before, but I need to-”

But Tenzō doesn’t let him finish. It’s completely ridiculous that Kakashi should apologize to him. It makes his heart beat faster in his chest. He places a hand on Kakashi’s leg, startling himself as much as Kakashi with the act. But he doesn’t remove his hand. 

“Kakashi, don’t apologize. Sure I pushed you out of the way of that rock, but you’re the one that carried me out. You’re the one that stayed with me and never let go. The one that carried me all the way back to the village and waited for me here.”

He has to force himself to stop taking. He can’t control his tongue when he gets agitated or flustered. Or when he’s in Kakashi’s presence in general. When Kakashi is anywhere near him, his head goes fuzzy and his heart races and he can’t stop himself from saying more than he should, even reaching out and touching him. He knows why, but he hasn’t quite said the words yet. Not to himself, and certainly not to anyone else. 

But since he’s gone this far, Tenzō allows his grip to tighten in what he hopes is still a reassuring gesture as he says “Thank you.”

Tenzō wills himself not to gasp as Kakashi reaches out and places his hand over Tenzō’s. He weaves their fingers together, and Tenzō marvels at how perfectly they fit. He lets the sensation wash over him. It’s just so warm and so natural. It feels like this is exactly how they should be sitting right now. 

_And forever_ , Tenzō admits to himself. 

The warm feeling spreads through his whole body, comforting, reassuring, and he can’t help it when his eyelids start to droop. Kakashi and he are finally sitting hand in hand, and of course he has to get sleepy now. 

_Damn concussed brain_ , he internally mutters. 

His eyes flutter back open as Kakashi speaks. “I’m just so glad that you’re okay. I’ll leave you so you can get some rest.”

Tenzō feels Kakashi’s grip tighten slightly, and he smiles, but then he feels him start to pull away. 

Kakashi stands and reaches out, pulling up the blanket Tenzō had kicked away in his flustered state back up to his chest, but Tenzō is reluctant to let him leave now. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t really want Kakashi to leave ever. 

“Stay?” He asks, surprisingly unashamed. He doesn’t care how it looks, how it sounds. Right now, he just wants Kakashi to be here with him. 

“Of course,” Kakashi easily replies, settling back down in a chair he pulls up to the side of Tenzō’s bed. He sounds almost relieved. Their fingers intertwine again, and Tenzō lets his eyes close. His lips turn up as he feels Kakashi rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. He wishes he could fall asleep this easily every night. Wishes he could fall asleep to this. 

Just as he’s drifting off to sleep, Tenzō feels feather light fingers stroke his hair, moving it from his face. He’s not sure if he’s actually dreaming it, but he also vaguely feels something impossibly soft and warm brush his forehead, tingling and leaving warmth in its wake. Then he relaxes into slumber. 

 

 

The next time Tenzō wakes up, it’s to the sound of whimpering. He becomes acutely aware of the vice like grip on his hand, and he shifts onto his elbow, partially sitting up to look at Kakashi. 

Kakashi is sleeping face down on Tenzō’s bed, his hands clenches around his face, Tenzō’s hand still firmly gripped in one of them. He can’t see Kakashi’s face, but judging by the pained sounds he’s making, it’s not great. 

Tenzō freezes when the whimpering turns into more audible words. 

“Rin?” he mumbles. Then, “No! Tenzō, no no no.”

His heart races and his whole body shakes. Kakashi just said his name. Well, it sounded more like a desperate cry. Tenzō’s heart contracts painfully. Whatever Kakashi’s dreaming, it’s not good. 

And it’s about him. 

Before he can move to wake Kakashi and put an end to his misery, Kakashi shudders violently, gasping for air with his face still pressed into the mattress. His heavy breaths sound like sobs, and it’s all Tenzō can do not to leap out of bed and embrace the man. 

Instead, he smooths his fingers through Kakashi’s tangled silver hair in what he hopes is a soothing manner. He wishes he knew what to do in this moment. How can you comfort someone who’s obviously so deeply scarred by the past, haunted in their waking moments and unable to escape in sleep? 

Tenzō settles for softly murmuring, “Kakashi, you’re alright now. You’re safe,” over and over as his fingers caress the older man’s silver hair. He’s biting back tears too, but he can’t allow himself to be overcome with emotion now. Not when Kakashi so clearly needs him. But it hurts. It’s agonizing to see Kakashi like this. And he feels helpless. 

After long, painful minutes, Kakashi’s breathing evens out. He starts to sit up, releasing his grip on Tenzō’s hand in exchange for the bed sheets, which he scrunches in his fists. Kakashi is now sitting up, but his shoulders are still hunched, and he’s not meeting Tenzō’s gaze.

Tenzō’s heart hurts for him. It aches to relieve his pain. But what can he do?

He gently places his hand back over Kakashi’s, trying to comfort him as best he can. Kakashi finally looks up but doesn’t quite meet Tenzō’s gaze directly. His visible eye is red and rimmed with repressed tears. Just looking into his eye, Tenzō feels like he’s taking a kunai to the gut. 

“I tried to wake you when you started talking, well I guess it was more like whimpering, but then you woke on your own.” 

Tenzō tightens his grip on Kakashi’s hand, letting him know he’s not going anywhere. Ever. Even if he couldn’t quite add that last bit out loud. 

“Did- what did I say?” Kakashi asks, his voice hoarse. 

“You mentioned that name again. Rin. But,” Tenzō hesitates, not sure if he should go on. Should he let Kakashi know that he knows he was in Kakashi’s dream, that his pained whimpers voiced his name? He almost doesn’t say anything, but then he realizes that if he ever wants Kakashi to open up to him, he needs to be entirely honest with him.

Tenzō breathes, then continues. “You also said my name. You sounded so sad. So terrified. Kakashi, what can I do?”

_Let me help you_ , he silently implores. 

Kakashi finally meets his gaze head on, and Tenzō’s breath catches in his throat. The pure misery riddled in his one dark eye seeps into Tenzō’s bones. It chills him. 

“I- nothing. I can’t-” Kakashi pulls away from him, backing up until his back hits the door. He looks terrified.

And it breaks Tenzō’s heart.

In a moment, he’s out the door, and as the door closes behind him, all Tenzō hears are his repeated words.

“I can’t.”

_Can’t what?_ Tenzō screams silently. _Can’t look at me? Can’t talk to me? Can’t be with me?_

His headache is back with a vengeance. He rubs his eyes, but the aching goes too deep. 

Tenzō could run after him. But he really doesn’t think Kakashi wants to see him right now. Clearly.

He should give Kakashi some time to cool off. Maybe he’ll come back when his head is clear, when he’s sorted out whatever has him so scared. 

_Me?_ Tenzō can’t help but think. 

He’s terrified that he’s let Kakashi down somehow. But what had he done other than try to comfort him. It isn’t anything Kakashi hadn’t done for him. So why? Why did he run off? What was so hard to articulate that he had to run off without finishing his sentence? What was so horrible that he could barely look Tenzō in the eye.

Tenzō’s head is swimming, his brain aching in time with his pulse, hammering away relentlessly. Maybe it was all too much. Maybe Tenzō had assumed too much, assumed Kakashi’s feelings. Maybe he had just made a complete and utter ass of himself in front of his captain by assuming he knew how he felt.

_Oh God_ , Tenzō internally cries, _what if he was repulsed by my actions, by my feelings?_

But Tenzō hadn’t exactly been hiding it before when they were on the mission either, and Kakashi hadn’t acted like this. In fact, Tenzō was fairly sure, at least up until Kakashi ran out, that he might have even reciprocated. Possibly. 

No, he knew how he felt. How he felt when Kakashi looked at him. How Kakashi reacted to him. How he was more open with Tenzō, who he had known for only a few days, than his teammates whom he had known for years. It can’t all be in his head. It just can’t. 

The more Tenzō remembers from his mission, the more sure he is. 

So _why?_

Tenzō groans, slumping back into the pillows and screwing his eyes shut. He doesn’t really feel like he’s in a condition to leave, and maybe if he stays here, Kakashi will come back. So he’ll wait.

And he waits.

And Kakashi doesn’t return. 

 

 

Three days after being discharged from the hospital, Tenzō still hasn’t heard anything from Kakashi. And it’s starting to make him slightly uneasy. Okay, a lot uneasy.

Okay, Tenzō is freaking out.

His mind is still reeling from everything that had happened that week. Getting assigned to his new ANBU team, going on his first mission with them, inadvertently and against his better judgement falling for his captain, sharing some seriously loaded moments with said captain. 

And then radio silence. 

Tenzō paces back and forth across his tiny living slash dining room, wracking his brain for any miniscule detail he could have missed that would explain why Kakashi had run off with no warning. But he honestly can’t think of anything. Other than the everything that is their weird relationship in general. Tenzō prays to every god he can think of that he’s not the reason Kakashi fled his hospital room. But what else could he take away from that encounter? 

“Shit!” he mutters when he stubs his toe on the sharp leg of the coffee table for the fourth time that morning. Ceasing his panicked pacing in order to hop on one foot to the couch, Tenzō lets out a stream of low curses, only partially having to do with his now thoroughly bruised toe. And of course, as soon as he slumps ungracefully into the couch, he hears a knock at his door. 

“Shit!” Tenzō mutters again, leaping off the couch, his aching toe completely forgotten. His heart beat picks up, blood rushing through his veins so loudly he can’t hear himself think. He staggers to the door, already out of breath when he reaches for the doorknob, his hands are shaking violently. He forces himself to breathe, then swings it open.

And his heart clenches in his chest. It’s Genma.

_Not Kakashi. Still not Kakashi._

“Hey,” Genma says, an almost sympathetic, knowing look in his eyes. 

_Damn perceptive bastard_ , Tenzō thinks as he nods in response, trying in vain not to look as utterly disappointed as he feels. It’s not working.

“We got a new mission.” Tenzō steps aside to let Genma into his apartment, schooling his expression. A mission will be good for him. It’ll distract him from everything. From Kakashi. 

Except, no it won’t. Kakashi will be there. 

_Shit_ , Tenzō repeats for what feels like the hundredth time in the past three days, though this time not out loud. 

Tenzō sits at his too small table shoved in the corner of the room, next to the open window. Genma settles in the seat across from him, a slight frown furrowing his brow and his perpetually clenched senbon wedged in the corner of his mouth. Tenzō’s hands grip his knees below the table to try and control their shaking. The prospect of going on a mission with his team, with Kakashi, after everything that had happened fills him with dread. 

Tenzō forces himself to speak. “So… it’ll be the whole team?”

That knowing look is back in Genma’s eyes, and if he hadn’t been so nice to Tenzō these past few days, coming to check on him twice and making sure he wasn’t overexerting himself when he was supposed to be resting, Tenzō would have liked to punch that look right off his face. But he’s not mad at Genma. He’s mad at this situation. Genma’s been great, really. A good teammate. A good friend, even if they’re just in the beginning stages of their friendship, still learning to trust each other and read each other. Though Genma seems to be able to read Tenzō like a book. It’s more than a little disconcerting. 

And Tenzō doesn’t want to take his fledgling friendship for granted. He’s always been good at making friends, but keeping them is another thing entirely. 

“Yes,” he nods, “all of us. We’re all supposed to meet up at the Western Gate by noon.” Genma’s brow furrows even further as though he’s debating if he should continue. Finally, he adds, “Raidō is getting Kakashi. He’s been MIA since the mission, but we’ve gotten pretty good at finding him over the years.” 

Tenzō swallows thickly. So the disappearing act isn’t entirely new. Maybe it wasn’t all Tenzō’s fault. Maybe he just triggered it. This newfound knowledge does nothing to lessen the sickening feeling weighing down his heart. 

“Okay, just give me a minute to gather my supplies.” Tenzō swiftly stands up, walking into his bedroom to pack his bag. He doesn’t want Genma to see him like this, wound so tightly with this surprising new knowledge that he could snap at any second. 

Tenzō’s emotions were always his downfall. That’s what his superiors in ROOT had always said to him when he messed up in training, put his team in danger when on a mission, let his emotions cloud his judgement and dictate his decisions. In ROOT, emotions are weakness. That had been drilled into him from a young age.

And yet, he had never been able to suppress his emotions like his team mates. Perhaps he was just too young. 

Tenzō reminisces as he shoves random clothes and weapons into his pack. He remembers one mission in particular. 

His team had just made it back into Konoha, and Tenzō had been left at the gate while his captain had rushed one of his team members to the hospital. It had been Tenzō’s fault that she broke her arm. He had succumb to their opponents taunting, to their emotional baiting. And Ai had paid the price. 

His captain berated him to the point of tears, which of course just further proved his point. Tenzō watched as his other team mates and their captain dispersed at the gate, and he only made it a few blocks before he sank to the ground in the shade of a willow tree, mostly concealed from the street by the low-hanging branches. 

He was only seven.

He wept.

When his streaming tears had finally run dry, Tenzō looked around to find his bearings. He didn’t even know where he was. A figure standing close by, also in the covered shade of the tree, was watching him. He had shockingly yellow hair and deep blue eyes, filled with an unspeakable sadness. 

He slowly approached Tenzō, who was now frozen in place, wondering if this man had been there the whole time. He never saw him approach, never noticed the shade part into a sliver of sunlight to allow the man to pass through the drooping leaves. He must have been there all along. Tenzō’s heart raced. 

But the man, a chunin or jounin judging by his attire, simply looked on him with those sad, sad eyes. Finally, he spoke.

“You know,” he said as he crouched next to Tenzō, still sitting dumbfounded on the ground, “emotion isn’t weakness.” 

Had he heard his captain reprimanding him? He had yelled, after all. Or was it just intuition? His dark eyes seemed so knowing, so sad but so sure. 

Tenzō merely sniffled in response, wiping the tear tracks from his cheeks with his sleeve. He looked up into the man’s face and was shocked by what he saw.

A small smile. His lips were turned up, and his eyes were twinkling, even if there was still some deep loss dark and mostly hidden below the surface. “It’s a strength. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He gently placed a hand on Tenzō’s shoulder, a touch of comfort. One Tenzō had been sorely lacking his whole life. It brought fresh tears to his eyes. The older man squeezed lightly as Tenzō nodded, his smile growing wider but almost bitter. 

“Too many shinobi, too many _children_ , are taught that emotions are weakness. I’ve seen it first hand.” His eyes are swimming with sorrow again, as though he’s remembering something truly horrific. Something recent enough to bring tears to the corners of his eyes.

“Love is a strength. Remember that-” He trails off, looking at Tenzō questioningly.

“Tenzō,” he mutters, looking up at this remarkable man. This caring man. 

“I’m Minato,” the man says, stretching out his hand to grip Tenzō’s. He clasps it, pulling Tenzō up from the ground. “Take care,” he says, ruffling Tenzō’s hair, then turning to walk away, his hand already sweeping the branches out of his way, letting the sunlight filter into the shadows that surrounded them, lighting up the darkness. “Remember what I said.”

And he’s alone.


	4. Absent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely serendipitousDescent for editing! You are my queen.

_tangible intangible murderously gentile exile_

-Susan Howe

Tenzō and Genma arrive at the gate with ten minutes to spare. Genma leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, one foot casually crossed over the other. Tenzō awkwardly follows suit, also leaning against the wall, but he knows he’ll never be able to pull off that casual, bored look like Genma. Especially because he’s definitely not capable of casual. He’s pretty much the epitome of awkward and anxious.

“So,” Tenzō tries to sound less worried than he is. “Are we going to wait for Raidō and Kakashi to go over the mission?” 

Genma looks at him pointedly, eyebrow cocked up slightly. 

_Yep, not so subtle, I guess._

“No, I can go over it now. Raidō will fill Kakashi in.” 

Tenzō nods, shifting to face Genma, forcing himself to focus on the man in front of him. He needs to pay attention to the mission details, despite where his mind keeps wandering. Who his mind keeps wandering to. He can’t afford to be emotionally compromised while on a mission. Tenzō shudders, pushing a dark memory to the back of his mind. 

“Essentially, this is an S rank escort mission. The Daimyō requested that a team of ANBU escort a diplomat from the village back to his estate across the Land of Fire. It’s really more of a precautionary measure. There’s no reason to believe the diplomat’s life is in danger, but he’s too important to take any chances.” 

Tenzō nods, taking in this information. If this really is going to be a simple escort mission, it should give Tenzō time to talk to Kakashi, or at least try. He doesn’t think he can take any more silence. Three days of Kakashi soundly avoiding him is more than he can handle. The silence is deafening. He’s already pulling out his own hair over analyzing every interaction they’ve had since they met. 

Tenzō is brought out of his silent revery when Genma hums in surprise. He looks up just in time to see Kakashi approaching with Raidō and a third man, presumably the diplomat, in tow. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever once seen you show up early to a mission, let alone on time, Kakashi.” Genma’s voice sounds light, amused, but Tenzō notices the look he and Raidō exchange as he speaks. It’s as though Genma’s asking a question with his eyes alone. Raidō shakes his head almost imperceptibly in response. 

But Tenzō turns his attention to focus solely on Kakashi. He doesn’t look mad. Tenzō sighs in relief. His heartbeat speeds even faster than it’s already racing when Kakashi opens his mouth to reply to Genma. 

“Why would I be late for my own mission?” His voice is even but low, his head tilted slightly to the right, his dark eye regarding Genma. 

Genma almost chokes on his senbon. Raidō throws him another meaningful look but doesn’t say anything. 

Kakashi still hasn’t looked at Tenzō, and he can feel his throat slowly closing up. He has to acknowledge him at some point. 

“Well, now that we’ve ascertained that everyone is, in fact, present, we must be heading out.” They all turn to look at the diplomat, whose arms are crossed, a frown very obviously scrutinizing the four of them. 

“Of course,” Raidō says, bowing stiffly in his direction. “Let’s head out.” 

 

 

As they walk, the group naturally spreads out. Raidō and Genma take the lead, followed by the diplomat, then Tenzō. Kakashi trails behind them, separated slightly from the pack. Tenzō thought that they would divert back to what had become their regular formation on the last mission, with he and Kakashi walking side by side. But apparently Kakashi had different ideas. 

So Tenzō is left with his swirling thoughts to keep himself company. 

_He’ll approach you when he’s ready,_ Tenzō reminds himself. It doesn’t make him feel any better. 

In fact, he feels worse now than before. Now, Kakashi is right here, so close he can almost reach out and touch him, but somehow he seems further away than before. It puts Tenzō on edge. His whole body prickles. 

Tenzō resists the urge to keep looking back over his shoulder at him, but with each passing moment, the urge becomes stronger. He’s going to snap pretty soon if Kakashi doesn’t make a move. Or at least acknowledge him. 

 

 

When they stop for a break after a few hours on the road, the diplomat separates himself and sits off to the side to eat alone. Genma and Raidō settle themselves in the shade of a tree, leaning against the broad trunk. Kakashi sits down off to the side, pulling out his trademark Icha Icha novel. Tenzō stiffens for a moment, trying to make up his mind. 

He knows he should give Kakashi time. He knows this. And yet, he’s being pulled, almost against his will, in Kakashi’s direction. 

And Tenzō doesn’t have the strength to pull away. He tries to tell himself it’s some sort of magnetic reaction, but he knows it’s just his own weak will. So instead, he gives in, resolving to get some sort of reaction from Kakashi. Anything is better than this charged silence. 

His feet slow as he approaches the older man, his heart hammering rapidly in his chest. He’s sure Kakashi can hear it, but he hasn’t looked up from his book, his face hidden entirely from view behind the bright orange cover. 

Tenzō stops in front of him, willing his voice not to shake. “Can I sit?”

Kakashi doesn’t look up from his book as he replies, “Sure,” his response curt. 

Tenzō hesitantly lowers himself to the ground next to Kakashi, making sure to leave a few inches in between them. Physical contact hadn’t been an issue for him before, obviously. Tenzō’s hand still tingles when he remembers the feeling of Kakashi’s fingers intertwined with his, Kakashi’s warm palm pressed reassuringly against his own. But he doesn’t want to take the chance that Kakashi has changed his mind. 

“Kakashi, I think we should talk.” Tenzō holds his breath, waiting for a response. 

“About what?” 

Tenzō’s lungs are burning. He forces out a shaky breath. 

“About everything… um, about us.” His hands are shaking now, and his face is flaming. He doesn’t even bother trying to hide it. His mind is focused solely on the man next to him. He never knew, until he met Kakashi, how desperately attuned his mind could be to someone else. 

Kakashi closes his book, and Tenzō gulps. A grey eye meets his, and Tenzō’s stomach drops. 

The once electric silence buzzing in the space between their bodies is now dead. Thick. Impenetrable. Like an invisible wall. Tenzō gulps and forces himself to maintain eye contact, his face burning. He thinks he’s about to have a heart attack. His blood rushes in his ears along with the rapid, strained beating of his heart. 

When the oppressive weight of the silence becomes too much to bare, and it’s clear that Kakashi isn’t going to speak, Tenzō tries again. He clears his throat, trying to force air down the constricted pathway and into his empty lungs. Finally, finally, he vocalizes what he’s been thinking non-stop for three days, what’s kept him up at night, what’s been preventing him from eating, derailing all rational thought. 

“Where the hell have you been for the past three days? And why have you been avoiding me? Kakashi, what did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. Please, I can’t take this silence any more.” 

Tenzō digs his nails into his palms to stop his speech before he does any more pleading, fists clenched so hard he can feel the skin break beneath his fingertips, can feel the blood beading in small crimson crescents. But he doesn’t even register the pain. His whole body is numb, focused solely on Kakashi, desperately looking for any sign of feeling in the other man. Any faint glimmer of the emotion he saw in his dark eye on their last mission, in the hospital after. 

But the eye that stares back at Tenzō observes him with an almost clinical disinterest. Tenzō can’t help but shudder under his piercing gaze. Then, he finally speaks.

“There’s nothing for you to fix.”

Tenzō feels his shoulders relax, feels the pressure on his heart ease slightly. Maybe he’s been overreacting this whole time. He’s spent the last three days waiting in agony and wondering what he had done to make Kakashi flee his room, when maybe it wasn’t his fault. His head is swimming. 

“So, we’re good?” Tenzō can’t help himself. He has to be sure. He can’t handle another day of not knowing. Not another second of it. 

“I have no issue with you, if that’s what you mean,” Kakashi replies, his voice sounding flat, indifferent. 

As if to end the conversation there, Kakashi pulls his Icha Icha back up, opening it to a seemingly random page with no folded corner or bookmark, his eye dropping down to the text. 

This is not the response Tenzō was hoping for. It makes him flinch. He can’t shake the feeling that something is very, very wrong. Kakashi may be sitting here, right next to him, but he couldn’t feel farther away. 

“But,” Tenzō hesitates for a moment, debating whether or not it’s too risky to take the plunge. But he’s always been a bit reckless, always thinking with his heart rather than his head. And he can’t stop now. “How are you feeling? You really scared me when you just ran out. I was so worried about you, Kakashi.” 

Kakashi’s face stays directed towards his book, not showing any sign that he heard Tenzō at all, except for his eye, which sharpens for a moment, just a flicker of darkness behind a smoky grey screen. It seems as though he’s calculating his answer before he speaks. The silence that might, to an outsider, appear as diffidence, to Tenzō feels detached, severed. His heart screeches to a halt when Kakashi replies.

“I had an issue, and I resolved it. No need to worry. It’s not worth the effort.” 

And with that, he raises his novel, the bright cover once again obscuring what little of Kakashi’s face Tenzō could see. His heart starts up again, but every beat feels like a stabbing in his chest, every breath like poison in his lungs. 

_Not worth the effort?_ Tenzō has to move. He pushes up off the ground in one swift motion, and in a moment, he’s speeding away. 

_Me worrying isn’t worth the effort? Me caring?_ Tenzō leans against the trunk of a tree, his forehead pressed into the rough bark, his eyes screwed shut. He can’t stop shaking. 

_Or, I’m not worth the effort?_

 

 

Soon, they’re moving again, this time with Kakashi in the rear, the diplomat in the middle, and Raidō, Genma, and Tenzō in the front. Tenzō feels tense, and it’s not just from the conversation he had with Kakashi. Genma and Raidō keep sneaking glances at him, not that they know he notices. He can feel their eyes on him, even if he’s not looking, and instead trying in vain to keep his face straight as he looks directly ahead. 

Tenzō is failing miserably at pushing Kakashi from his thoughts for the sake of the mission. He may be looking straight ahead, but he doesn’t see the trees rushing past or the way the shadows flicker when the branches sway in the wind. All he sees is Kakashi shimmering in front of him like a mirage. 

And it hurts. It _aches_. 

“Tenzō,” Genma says from surprisingly close by, “you okay?” 

Tenzō draws his attention from the shadowy illusion of a man swimming in his vision to the one next to him, brown hair spilling out from the bandana tied around his head, senbon clenched in a mouth turned downward in a concerned frown. 

_No_ , Tenzō immediately thinks. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he answers. But the brow Genma raises at him suggests that he knows otherwise. 

Tenzō backtracks. “Well, I guess- I was just wondering, is Kakashi acting odd to you?” 

The knowing gleam is back in Genma’s eyes, and he exchanges a fleeting look with Raidō before he replies, “No more odd than usual. Although, him showing up early did freak me out a little bit.”

Tenzō feels his heart sink at Genma’s words. Maybe he really had made up all of Kakashi’s feelings in his head. Embellished their interactions. Seen their relationship through rose-tinted glasses. Seen it the way he wishes it was. 

But then Raidō speaks. “Though we did notice that on our last mission he was acting particularly odd. I mean, more odd than usual.”

Genma nods at that, stealing another glance in Tenzō’s direction. Tenzō feels like his heart is lodged in his throat. He doesn’t think he can speak. Luckily Genma saves him the trouble.

“Yep, he was definitely acting weird on the last mission. He normally doesn’t socialize outside of talking about mission details, but he seemed to have no problem talking with you. In fact, if I hadn’t been the one to introduce the two of you, I’d have thought you guys had known each other for years. I’ve never seen Kakashi let his guard down that much for anyone.”

Tenzō’s brain is overheating. 

_What? What!_

Raidō deals the deathblow. “Yeah, at first, I thought you guys were, you know, sleeping together. But Genma set me straight.” 

At that, Genma snickers. “Oh, I set you _straight_ , did I?”

Tenzō doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with his teammates shamelessly flirting in front of him when he can’t get over what they just said. Kakashi does care about him. He must.

Or he did, at least. 

_So, what the hell happened?_

Tenzō is almost--almost--thankful when a kunai shoots out of the shadows, heading straight for the diplomat. At least it’s a distraction. 

In a heartbeat, all of them have lunged into action. 

Raidō knocks the kunai out of its trajectory with a sweeping arc of his katana. It sinks into a tree trunk below with a thud. 

Genma crouches in front of the diplomat, senbon laced between his fingers. The tips drip poison, just waiting for their moment to pierce into enemy skin, causing instant and painless death with terrifying precision. 

Raidō places himself firmly behind the diplomat, now protected on both sides by the two Tokubetsu Jōnin. He raises his katana to the ready, poised to kill. He and Genma briefly glance at each other, silently communicating through their eyes alone. 

Tenzō’s stomach drops when Kakashi lands on the branch right next to him. His hitai-ate is already shoved up, his sharingan activated. Two very different eyes lock onto Tenzō’s, one piercing and grey, the other red as blood and flecked with shadow. And somehow, Tenzō is more unnerved by the grey one. 

“Raidō, Genma, guard the diplomat. Tenzō and I will find them,” Kakashi commands before launching off the branch. 

Tenzō follows close behind, only waiting long enough for his heart to start beating again before he’s in pursuit. They run full speed in the direction that the kunai was thrown from, chasing the flickering shadow of the assassin. 

Tenzō activates his Mokuton, fingers flashing through the familiar hand signs. Wood sprouts from the forest floor, shooting past them towards the fleeing shinobi. The thick, squared branches wrap themselves around the assassin, tripping them up, then winding around to constrict their movement. Kakashi and Tenzō drop down to the ground next to the wooden prison, and Kakashi approaches, kunai clenches in his fist.

“How many of you are there?” 

His voice is low, calm, but it sends shivers down Tenzō’s spine. The ninja opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a rough laugh, turning into a choking cough. His eyes flash upwards, and Kakashi’s sharingan doesn’t miss the movement. He grabs Tenzō by the arm, wrenching them both back, just as a series of kunai slice through the air, barely missing their target and embedding themselves deep into the ground. 

“Above us!” Tenzō shouts, his eyes flickering upwards to the trap they had unwittingly run into. 

Kakashi’s forms the seal for his Katon before Tenzō has even finished speaking. A fireball shoots up into the branches overhead, ravaging and burning straight through the treetops, leaving only the singed, smoldering skeleton of trees turned to charcoal in its wake. 

“Six to our left, five to our right,” Kakashi informs Tenzō while his sharingan sweeps over the shadows. 

He draws his tanto in a shimmer of silver light. Tenzō braces next to him, his palms outstretched and ready for the inevitable fight. 

For one split second, everything is perfectly silent and still, and all Tenzō can hear is the rapid beating of his own heart, then they flash into action. Kakashi veers left, his tanto viciously slicing a path through the darkly clad shinobi. 

On the right, Tenzō’s Mokuton whips and weaves through the trees, both serving to block the attacks aimed at him and form a wall around them, penning them in. The forest is the best arena for Tenzō, easily manipulated by his jutsu, and he uses this to his advantage now, cornering the five assassins. 

One lunges out at him, his hands speedily weaving the seals for a Katon, but Tenzō is quicker. His shuriken slices through the air, hitting the shinobi before his jutsu is complete. 

Before the body has even fallen to the ground, another assassin darts out from behind their fallen comrade, katana coming down at full force above Tenzō’s head. He rolls to the side, just barely managing to evade the sharp edge of the blade. As he dives out of the reach of the katana, Tenzō’s already weaving his next jutsu, wasting no time against his remaining four opponents. Wood shoots out of the ground at the assassin’s feet, snaking around his body. He tries in vain to hack away at the Mokuton with his sword, but it’s too late. Tenzō releases the jutsu before it has the chance to crush him in its hold, but he’s immobilized for now. They need to keep at least one alive for questioning. 

He whips around, wondering how Kakashi is faring against his six opponents, when the other three assassins concealed in the trees all emerge at once, surrounding him. He has to forcefully push Kakashi to the back of his mind. He can’t afford to be distracted when he’s facing off against three skilled and anonymous enemies attacking him head on. 

Tenzō launches three perfectly aimed kunai at the assassins surrounding him, causing them to leap back. This is his chance.

He dives towards the closest shinobi, his fist connecting with their skull. They slam back against a tree, and Tenzō immediately uses his Mokuton, surrounding them in branches that burst from the trunk of the tree. Three down, two to go. 

Tenzō hears a twig snap on his right, and he lunges away from the shuriken speeding at him. He manages to dodge most of them, but one slices his sleeve. The sharp edge barely grazed him, but blood begins to slowly seep into the fabric of his shirt. 

He doesn’t have time to register the pain. The other assassin is closing in from his left, a wave of water rushing at him from the Suiton jutsu the other shinobi has activated. 

_Shit_ , Tenzō thinks as he leaps back into the treetops to avoid the deadly flood. 

Both assassins are on him again with a vengeance. Tenzō narrowly avoids a shuriken aimed at his chest, returning a kunai in the blink of an eye. He doesn’t wait to see the kunai sink into its target. Instead, his eyes are drawn to the sudden flash of silver light on his other side. 

Kakashi flickers into existence behind the last assassin, his tanto one second swinging through the air, the next, lodged in the shinobi’s chest. Blood ripples out of the wound as Kakashi rips out the blade.

“Kakashi,” Tenzō manages to choke out, “thanks.” 

But he’s gone just as quickly as he came, dissolving back into the shadows. Tenzō runs after him, his heart racing faster than his feet can move. 

He skids to a halt when he spots Kakashi, tanto raised above one of the assassins Tenzō had captured with his Mokuton. The captured shinobi squirms desperately, trying in vain to free himself from the tight grip of the wood. But it’s no use. 

Before Tenzō can speak, Kakashi is already slicing downwards, his tanto glimmering scythe-like as it connects with its target. His heart clenches, and he suddenly feels faint. He knew Kakashi was deadly, but this. This is something else entirely. This is swift and deadly retribution. This is not human. 

“Kakashi, wait,” he manages to choke out, his head swimming. 

But it’s too late. Kakashi is already speeding on to his next target. His next victim. 

Tenzō rushes after him, refusing to acknowledge the spots bursting in and out of his vision. All he can manage is a constant stream of _What the hell? What the hell?_ over and over in his head. 

When Tenzō reaches the assassin he trapped in his Mokuton, Kakashi is already there, tanto ready. It doesn’t even shake in the slightest. His hold is eerily steady. 

The shinobi begs him, “Please, please! I’ll tell you anything you want to know!” his voice cracking as he tries not to sob.

But Kakashi’s steel grey eye doesn’t blink, doesn’t react to his cry, doesn’t even register his horror. He pulls back for the deathblow. 

“Kakashi, stop!” Tenzō yells, the words he had been trying to vocalize suddenly tearing from his throat, raw and shrill. “We have to keep someone alive to question them!” 

Kakashi pauses for a moment, going completely still, but he doesn’t turn to look at Tenzō. He keeps his deadly gaze firmly fixed on the shinobi trapped in front of him.

“The objective of the mission is to eliminate any threat posed to the diplomat. Our mission is not to investigate. Besides, look at their clothes. They’re not affiliated with any village. They’re clearly rogue shinobi looking for a ransom fee. Once we eliminate them, there will be no more threat.”

Tenzō stares at him blankly. 

_He can’t be serious, can he?_

“Kakashi-”

But Tenzō is cut off by the low voice that makes his skin crawl. “Tenzō, stand down. I am your Captain, and I will decide how to proceed with this mission. The threat will be eliminated.”

Tenzō thinks he’s going to be sick. The world is spinning. This isn’t happening.

But it is.

“Yes, Captain.” It’s all he can manage to force out, barely a strangled whisper, but he knows Kakashi can hear him. 

Tenzō can’t bear to look at him. At what he’s doing. This shinobi isn’t a casualty of battle; he can’t fight back. It’s different. It’s not right. He closes his eyes, only opening them again after he hears the sickening noise of steel ripped from flesh. 

“We should get back to Genma and Raidō. I’m sure they have everything under control, but we can’t take any chances.” 

Kakashi’s tone is still calm, and Tenzō’s blood starts to boil. He must be dreaming, because Kakashi wouldn’t do this. He doesn’t reply, simply following behind Kakashi who is already speeding back to the rest of their team. 

 

 

When Kakashi and Tenzō approach the spot where they split off from their team, they spy a body splayed out on the ground, a senbon sunk into the rogue shinobi’s throat. They quicken their pace. The assassin who attacked their team was obviously a diversion meant to split them up so that a second team could attack the smaller group and capture the diplomat. 

As they rush on, they spot another body, this one with a gash that suggests Raidō was his opponent. As if Tenzō didn’t already feel like he was going to throw up or pass out, or both, this would be enough to make him feel uneasy. They had fallen right into the rogue shinobi’s trap, leaving only Genma and Raidō to protect the diplomat. 

Tenzō’s stomach clenches when he hears voices ahead. Kakashi pulls his tanto back out of its sheath without slowing down, and Tenzō grabs a fist full of kunai from his pouch. 

“What do they want with you?” 

It’s Genma’s voice. He doesn’t sound like he’s in trouble. Tenzō relaxes, if only slightly. 

He and Kakashi drop down from the branches they had been running on, landing on the forest floor facing Genma, who’s standing, arms crossed over his chest, scrutinizing the diplomat. Raidō stands next to him, his brow furrowed and his eyes dark.

“I already told you, I don’t know!” The diplomat shouts back at him, clearly annoyed. He huffs and mirrors Genma’s position, arms crossed in frustration. 

“Well, clearly they wanted something from you,” Genma says, exasperated. 

Raidō places a hand on Genma’s shoulder, stopping him with a look. “They were likely after him for his connection to the Daimyō. They could get a handsome fee for taking the diplomat hostage and making the Feudal Lord pay to get him back.” 

At this point, Kakashi cuts in. “Yes, I agree, Raidō. They were clearly rogue shinobi looking to ransom him, which is why I eliminated the threat.”

Raidō and Genma look at Kakashi, frowns even more pronounced now. But before they can say anything, Kakashi continues.

“I assume you took care of all the ones on your end?” 

Raidō nods. “There were seven of them, but Genma and I took care of it.” 

“Good,” Kakashi says, resheathing his tanto. “Let’s continue the mission then. We’re already behind when we were supposed to arrive.” 

They fall into their previous formation, with Kakashi at the rear, looking out for any more rogue shinobi while the diplomat stays close to him, and Genma, Raidō, and Tenzō look out to the front and sides of their group. As they run, Tenzō’s mind wanders back to Kakashi and the dead look in his eyes. He shudders.

Genma, who has been watching him closely ever since the beginning of the mission, breaks the silence. “You okay there, Tenzō?”

Tenzō gulps. Honestly, he’s feeling kind of numb. His head is still spinning. 

“I- No, I’m not.”

Raidō looks over at him now too, also interested. Genma’s eyes are dark, and he rolls the senbon in his mouth before he responds. “You know the question you asked me before, about if Kakashi was acting odd?”

Tenzō nods, his heart thumping in his chest. 

“Well, I’m starting to think you were right. Something is definitely off, and I don’t think it’s just between you and him.” 

Tenzō doesn’t meet their gaze. He doesn’t think he can handle whatever concerned looks they’re giving him. He keeps his eyes focused straight ahead, willing them to stop stinging. He really, really can’t afford to lose it at a time like this. He can’t let his emotions compromise the diplomat’s safety or the mission. And he doesn’t want to look pitiful in front of his teammates. He takes a deep breath before responding.

“What should we do?”

He finally looks over at Raidō and Genma, who glance at each other for a split second before looking back to him. Genma looks at Tenzō sympathetically as he speaks.

“I don’t know if it’s our place to do anything.”

Tenzō looks down at his feet. _I have to do something_ , he thinks desperately. _But what?_

As though Raidō just read his mind, he says, “Tenzō, I know it’s difficult, but I don’t know how much you can do for him. He’s always been closed off. Emotionally scarred. Maybe the best thing you can do for him right now is be there if he needs you, but to accept it if he doesn’t.”

Tenzō is about to say something--anything--back to stress how worried he is, how he has to do something, when Raidō speaks again.

“But you should probably keep an eye on it. From a distance.”

“Okay,” he manages in reply. 

At least they see it too. At least he’s not crazy. Something is definitely wrong. Wrong enough that even Genma and Raidō are concerned. And Tenzō is determined to get to the bottom of it. 

Yes, he reasons as they continue along through the forest, their mission was to eliminate any threat, and Kakashi did that. He’s following orders. But he’s not himself. 

What Tenzō doesn’t know is that this is Kakashi after his father’s death, but before Obito’s. This is the Kakashi of his childhood. Wilfully apathetic. Obedient to a fault. Blind to all else except the black and white rules of the mission. 

 

 

His stomach is a squirming pit of worry as they escort the diplomat to the Daimyō’s estate. They don’t run into any more trouble, but everyone is troubled enough as it is. 

Kakashi doesn’t speak except to give orders on the mission for the rest of their journey, and once the diplomat is safely deposited in the Feudal Lord’s guarded estate, he doesn’t speak for the remainder of their return back to Konoha. Genma and Raidō are quiet too, though they sometimes exchange hushed whispers and looks full of meaning. Tenzō, too, is silent, but his thoughts are shrieking in his head, reverberating around in his mind, echoing his worry. It’s deafening. 

When they arrive at the gate to the village, they split off. Kakashi heads to report to the Hokage, Raidō and Genma turn as though they’re about to leave, only pausing long enough for Genma to place a firm hand on Tenzō’s shoulder and nod, and then Tenzō’s left alone by the gate.

He doesn’t think he can handle going home and sitting around doing nothing. He has to keep moving. So he walks aimlessly through the winding streets near the gate, desperately looking for any sort of distraction. 

And then he sees it. The willow tree where he once met a stranger whose words changed his life. Tenzō smiles to himself as he draws back the drooping, leafy branches, remembering the words that changed his whole perspective. 

_Love is a strength. Remember that._

He does, but it hurts.

Tenzō sinks down in the cool shade of the tree, concealed from the street by the low hanging branches. His head hits the trunk as he forces his body to relax. But instead, his thoughts turn back to Kakashi. 

Although the mission was a success, Tenzō senses an undeniable change in Kakashi, and it’s eating away at him. Something is terribly, terribly wrong. There is no light in Kakashi’s eyes. He’s not the same man Tenzō thought he knew. This is the ghost of a man that never fully learned to love. And it terrifies him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh my poor baby Tenzō! Worry not, Kakashi is my love, and Tenzō is my precious child. I will make them happy again!
> 
> I'll post chapter five within the next two weeks, ideally next week, but life is a spiralling circle of chaos, so we'll see.


	5. Narcosis

things absolute but absent  
are not alone Nominalism  
While I lie in your refuge  
it is sanctuary it is refuge  
-Susan Howe

Kakashi has just left the Hokage’s office when he starts to feel it. Feel everything.

First, his hands start to shake, almost imperceptibly, but then it becomes more and more uncontrollable. His numb fingers start to tingle, at first ice cold, then burning hot. Spikes of feeling flicker up his fingertips, twinging as the fire-like sensation burns up his arms. 

Then, he starts to feel it in his chest. The once numb and eerily empty calm is disrupted by the electrical current shooting through his body. His chest beings to tighten, his heart clenching painfully as it beats an unsteady rhythm against his ribs. The air rushes out of his lungs, and it’s all he can do to remain standing. 

Everything burns.

His body is on _fire_. And he’s shivering.

Next, his head starts to pound in time with his rapidly speeding pulse. Kakashi can’t even lift his arm to wipe away the sheen of sweat dripping down his brow. It’s still shaking uncontrollably and hanging limp at his side. The mind-numbing fog that had been clouding his brain from all sensation starts to heat up, expanding in his skull. Kakashi thinks his head is going to burst. 

He stumbles down the alley, his legs heavy as weights and shaking violently like his hands. He doesn’t think he’s going to make it home. Not when the pressure in his skull is threatening to make him pass out. Stars burst in and out of his vision, which is slowly growing darker around the edges, and his left eye feels like there’s a kunai lodged in it. 

Kakashi’s body can’t take it any more. 

He collapses to his knees, and the pain rockets up his body, adding to the overwhelming assault of sensation. 

He can’t think straight. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t even know his own name. 

All he can do is collapse onto his side, crumpling like a corpse. And he looks like one too, or he would if his whole body weren’t trembling, almost fit-like. His face is deathly pale, his skin an unnatural pallor, slicked with perspiration. His sweat-dampened hair tangles and collects grime as his forehead rests on the dirt floor of the alleyway. 

He gasps in lungfuls of air, but it does nothing to quell the burning in his lungs. He desperately needs water, needs anything, but he can’t move. He can’t even talk. His throat is constricted to the point where, try as he might, and with every heaving breath, only a small amount of air is actually able to enter into his lungs. 

All he can think is _This is hell. This must be hell_ , over and over, the painful realization searing through the poisonous gas corroding his brain. 

As his vision darkens even more, causing the afternoon sun to wane to a crescent moon in his midnight vision, images start to flash vividly before his pounding eyes, even as the stars continue to burst with the throbbing in his chest. 

He sees a glimmer. Silver and brown. Green trees and shadows. Then he hears a sob, a scream, a terrified voice. He smells blood, tastes copper. 

Kakashi gags, his stomach acid burning up his throat and causing him to choke and hack up anything remaining in his stomach, curled in on himself in the dirty alley, the stone wall of a building cutting into his back and broken glass scraping on the ground as his whole body tenses and heaves. 

For the first time since all of this started, he makes a sound, a broken wail. His raw throat protests as the sound rips from his vocal chords, almost inhuman, like a howling wolf. The scream reverberates between the close walls of the alley, echoing ghostlike in his ears. 

He’s going to die.

He _wants_ to die. 

But he isn’t. And he can’t. And the images start coming faster, brighter, blinding him, burning into his unwilling retinas. But he can see them more clearly now. 

He sees an assassin, sees his own tanto slicing into them in a flash of silver and a splash of red. He sees the branches blur beneath his feet as he chases a shadow. He sees a man with brown hair, his back turned to Kakashi, sees him leap out of the way of speeding shuriken, sees how a dark shape lunges at him from behind. Then his tanto is painted red again. His vision is red. Everything is red. And the man turns.

_Tenzō_.

But then his vision swings around, and shadows and branches fly past his eyes. He spots another assassin, their movements constricted by thick and inescapable contortions of wood. The sound fills his ears again. The sobbing, the shrieking. 

And then Tenzō is there. He’s shouting. His eyes are bloodshot and blown wide open. His voice sends sparks of pain through Kakashi’s body, but all he can do is watch the memories flicker across his mind. Closing his eyes does nothing. It won’t end. 

He watches the tanto rise, the screaming rising too, his ears being assaulted by the violence of the noise. And then it drops. His tanto drops, his vision drops, and the lifeless body drops. 

When he looks up, the rest of the gaps in his memory fill themselves in. Tenzō’s face fills them in. 

Shock, repulsion, horror. It’s with those emotions searing in Tenzō’s eyes that Kakashi’s vision finally, mercifully, goes black. 

 

 

When Kakashi is ripped back into consciousness, it’s dark. He hesitantly opens his eye, seeing only the outlines of garbage cans and debris highlighted by the cold light of the moon, it’s rays sharpening the rough edges of the trash littering the alleyway, the shattered glass spread out across the dark ground twinkling like broken stars. 

His eyes ache in his head, and his skull feels incredibly tight. He shifts slightly, testing his body’s ability to move. With a breath of relief, he discovers that he can move. But everything hurts. 

He tries to sit up, but even rising a few inches off the ground makes his head swim and his stomach lurch with intense nausea. He slowly, slowly props himself up on one arm, ignoring the shards of glass digging into his palms. 

He breathes in. 

He exhales and lets the cold night air whisper through his matted hair, cooling his forehead, smeared with dirt and sweat. His body is clammy and still shaking, though much less violently than before he had passed out. 

Kakashi lies in this uncomfortable pose for countless minutes, evening his breathing, trying to calm the remaining shakiness in his limbs. When he’s fairly sure he won’t pass out again, he allows himself to sit up a few more inches. He curls his legs in, wiping his filthy palms on his sweats, which aren’t in much better shape. 

As his body slowly readjusts to this new position, Kakashi closes his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the tense space between his eyes. Instead of seeing darkness, he sees a face. Tenzō’s face. His breath catches in his throat.

_What have I done?_

The guilt weighs him back down, and he slumps back against the wall of the building. He can’t erase the image from his mind. Tenzō’s face. The look in his eyes. The horror. The disappointment. The hurt. And Kakashi did that to him. Kakashi let him down. Kakashi hurt him.

_But to have let him down, he must have felt something for me in the first place_ , Kakashi reasons. It doesn’t make him feel any better though. In fact, it makes him feel much worse. Tenzō had faith in him, cared for him, and he let him down. He ruined any chance they had. 

_But hadn't I already done that. By taking the Cure, I smothered any chance we had. Smothered any chance I had at happiness._

Kakashi’s hands clench into fists. 

Tenzō is better off without Kakashi in his life anyways. He’s young and hopeful, talented and eager, kind and full of life. He’s everything Kakashi is not. And Kakashi would ruin that, would corrupt that purity just by letting him get close, by letting him care about the shell of a man he knows himself to be. He’s a facade. There’s no substance underneath, only a dark empty cavity that he had once fooled himself into believing could be filled by someone like Tenzō, someone who could outshine all the darkness within himself, could cast away the lingering shadows and weight of the past with his light, with his love. 

But now Kakashi knows better. Tenzō is better off without him. He’ll get over Kakashi soon enough. He will get over the disappointment and move on to someone who won’t drag him down into the empty darkness that threatens at any moment to entirely consume him. 

And he still can’t get that damn face out of his head. Those dark brown eyes. 

He needs to get out of here. Now.

Kakashi pushes himself up, faster this time, ignoring the pain in his head and the way his stomach churns. He braces his hands on the wall of the building next to him and stands, refusing to look down at the ground where he had been lying for an unknown number of hours. It won’t do to dwell here, in body or mind.

Home, he needs to go home. Kakashi gives one final push and starts walking, placing one foot in front of the next until he’s out of the alley and stumbling into the open marketplace, long since deserted for the night. He recognizes it instantly. Home is west. 

Kakashi starts to go faster, first walking briskly, then breaking into a run as he nears his neighbourhood. When he finally catches sight of his apartment building, he’s in a full on sprint, not bothering to go through the ground-level apartment building’s door, but rather springing up to his windowsill. He quietly releases the seal he had placed on the window, sliding it open and slipping into his living room. 

He immediately heads for the sink, pouring himself a glass of water and downing it instantly. He pours another and repeats the process. When his throat no longer feels like it’s been scraped by sandpaper, Kakashi sets down the glass, noticing just how dirty his hands really are. There’s grime smeared on his palms and the backs of his hands and dirt packed under his fingernails. 

_Shower_ , Kakashi thinks, then _bed_. 

As he heads to the one tiny bathroom, he starts peeling off his clothes. He first removes his hitai-ate, placing it on the counter, keeping his left eye firmly shut, then he removes his ANBU grade armour, letting it rest on one of the chairs at his small table. He strips off the rest of his clothing as he enters the bathroom, leaving his face-mask for last. 

Kakashi looks in the mirror as he pulls off the mask, but he’s unable to look himself directly in the eye. He’s afraid of what he’ll see if he does. But he does gaze at his own face, the face no one but him ever sees. Even as a genin, Kakashi wore the mask, and when he joined ANBU, he added another one over top. Another mission, another personality. And that was how he liked it. He could escape himself in those moments, pretend to be someone else, hide behind anonymity. 

And yet, from the moment they met, Kakashi felt like Tenzō had seen right through the masks, through the facade, to the man underneath. At first, it left him feeling incredibly naked and vulnerable, but after he realized who Tenzō was, what Tenzō meant to him, it was almost a relief. A relief for someone to see him, to know him, and still care about him. Maybe even love him one day.

But the voice is back again. 

_This is what love does, Kakashi. It rips your heart out._

He tells himself that it will be better for both of them if he stays aloof, stays away. And it kills him. But emotions are pain. Emotions are weakness.

He tries to fight it, to disagree, but his strength is gone. It was gone the moment he first took that little clear pill and let the world slip away. 

Kakashi drops the mask on the bathroom counter, turning on the shower and letting the warm water run down his weak and weary body. It soothes his aching muscles, but does nothing to soothe his mind. It’s still spinning. 

When he’s too tired to possibly stand any longer, Kakashi steps out of the shower, half-heartedly towelling himself off as he heads for his bedroom. He lets the towel slip through his fingers, dropping to the floor, instantly forgotten as he collapses onto his bed. He barely has the willpower to pull up the blanket before his head hits the pillow. When he closes his eyes, all he sees are brown ones staring back at him. 

 

 

Kakashi’s at the memorial stone. He stands there alone, the cold wind blowing straight through his jacket, his hands tucked into his pockets. His gaze stays focused on the stone as the wind sweeps fallen leaves across his vision. It’s autumn. 

He doesn’t remember coming here, doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here for, but he feels as though he’s been waiting for a long time. A lifetime. 

The last rays of sunlight fade into the darkening sky as the frozen breeze picks up. Flakes of snow now blow past, silently collecting on the ground at his feet, a chilling reminder of the passage of time. It’s winter. Still, he does not move.

The night stretches on for what feels like an eternity, the cold stars seemingly mocking him as they shine their light so far away it could never reach him down here on earth.

Then the first rays of sunlight break across the sky, illuminating the dark field in a faint glow. The snow melts into the grass as the beautiful and broken song of a bird pierces through the silence he thought would never end. It’s spring. The breeze turns warmer, curling around his frozen form, coaxing his hands from his pockets. 

But it’s not a breeze, it’s a presence. A feeling. Someone guiding his hand, taking it in their own. And it’s warm and comforting, and Kakashi knows who it belongs to. Tenzō. 

He finally, after a lifetime, after an eternity, allows himself to look away from the memorial stone. Tenzō is standing next to him, arm outstretched, hand wrapped around his own. And he’s smiling. The sunrise glimmers in his brown eyes as he looks out. But he’s not looking in front of them at the memorial stone. He’s looking at Kakashi. He’s smiling at Kakashi. He’s standing beside Kakashi. 

Kakashi is no longer alone. 

And he’s smiling. 

He squeezes Tenzō’s hand, a silent question. _Will you leave me too?_

Tenzō answers, his fingers tightening around Kakashi’s own. _Never._

 

 

Kakashi wakes to sunlight filtering through his blinds. His right hand lies outstretched on the bed, cold, waiting. His face is wet. 

He sits up, wiping his hand across his face and looking at the clock. It’s already late in the afternoon. He must have slept all day, not that he’s complaining. Hopefully he slept off the worst of the pill’s effects. Or rather, the effects of coming off of it. Coming down off of the high of apathy. It was like nothing Kakashi had ever experienced before. Every repressed emotion, every excruciating feeling and every painful memory, flooding back at once. He never wants to feel that again. 

He gets up, steadying himself on the edge of the bed as his head goes light and his stomach churns. He stood up too fast. Kakashi makes his way over to his dresser, pulling out the first clothes he sees and getting changed as quickly as possible. 

As soon as he’s sufficiently clothed in sweats and a long-sleeve shirt, Kakashi goes in search of his hitai-ate. He finds it on the kitchen counter and ties it back around his forehead, pulling it down over his left eye once it’s firmly in place. 

As he looks around the kitchen, his stomach grumbles loudly. It’s no surprise. After all, he hadn’t really eaten on his mission, and after what happened to him the night before when he left the Hokage’s office, he knows he needs his strength. Kakashi opens his fridge, but the bright white inside shines back, empty as it was before he left for his mission. 

_Great_ , he thinks to himself as he collects the items of clothing he had strewn across his apartment the night before, dumping them in a pile on his bed. He rummages through his pack, stopping when he finds what he’s searching for. Soldier food pills. He pulls one out, swallowing it whole. It’ll have to do. 

_Pills don’t solve everything, Kakashi-senpai._

Kakashi’s chest aches as Tenzō’s words fill his mind. That mission feels like so long ago. But he can’t help the grimace that curls his lips upwards. _He has no idea._

Kakashi looks down at his hand, tightly clenching something in his pack. He draws it up, instantly recognizing the container, the ominous label. He pauses for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. Then his hands begin to shake. 

He grips the cap, pressing down as he twists, the plastic digging into his fingers. The lid pops off, and Kakashi drops it to the bed, his hands still shaking. He tips the container over his palm, but nothing comes out.

_Shit_ , he thinks, _I can’t be out!_

But he is. The container is empty. It drops from his hand, joining the discarded lid on his bed. 

He remembers what happened after he took the first pill. The pain. The numbness. The nothingness. He also remembers how his body had started shaking when it was wearing off. That was when he made the decision to take more. And every twelve hours after that, Kakashi had removed one little pill from the container, replaced it in his pack, and swallowed it down along with any chance at redemption. It became a cycle, a habit, a necessity. And it still is.

He needs more. 

He grabs his bag and is about to run out of his apartment in search of the hidden ROOT facility when he realizes that he isn’t wearing his mask. He finds it in the bathroom, haphazardly dropped next to the sink. He picks it up, pulling it down over his hitai-ate and head, sliding it all the way down so the edge rests below the neckline of his shirt. Then he pulls it back up around his face, looking in the mirror as he adjusts it over his pale, sallow skin, noting the dark purple bag under his visible eye. One cold, bloodshot grey eye meets his own. And he doesn’t recognize it. 

Kakashi flees his apartment, refusing to look back as he runs atop the roofs of the village, a dark blur blending into the grey sky.

 

 

By the time Kakashi reaches the rock wall hidden by thick trees in the outskirts of the village, night has fallen. He crouches on a branch above where he remembers the hidden door being, cloaking his chakra signature and waiting to make entirely sure he’s alone. After a few agonizing minutes of silence, he resolves himself to his next action. 

Kakashi silently drops down from his perch, slowly approaching the wall. It might seem like overkill, but when it comes to breaking into a secret underground ROOT facility, it’s better to be overly cautious than the alternative. He raises a hand to the cliff face, running his palm over the cool stone, ignoring how it shakes slightly, despite his best efforts. When he feels a subtle change in temperature and his skin buzzes from the tiny flare of chakra, he releases the seal. 

The rock shifts and slides soundlessly, and Kakashi slips through the opening and into the dark passage beyond. The only light source within is the flicker of fire from torches sparsely lining the walls as the whole hallway slopes down. 

As his eyes adjust to the dark, Kakashi holds his breath, listening for the most minute sounds. He hears nothing in the silence but his own pulse, speeding faster with every minute. He hurries down the corridor, looking for the familiar doorway. When he sees it, he stops in his tracks. 

The door is closed, but the knob doesn’t appear to have a lock. _And why would it_ , he thinks. _This is a secret facility that no one should know about but the people who are supposed to be here._

His mind wanders to what else Danzo might be hiding down these dark and winding halls, what he would stumble into if he kept walking down the descending hall slowly winding its way under the earth, but he stops himself with a shudder. 

Some questions are better left unanswered. And he has his own problems to worry about. 

With that thought, Kakashi twists the knob, swinging the door open. He steps over the threshold with bated breath, his eyes sweeping over the dark room. The lab table against the wall looks the same as it did a few days before, the first time Kakashi came here. He doesn’t waste time sifting through papers or reading the labels on the sinister looking liquids filling racks upon racks of test tubes. He didn’t come for information. 

He came for release. 

He turns to the shelves of boxes, reaching out to run his hand along the label of one. Squinting in the near darkness, the only light in the room flickering from the torch outside the door, he can make out the name. _The Cure._

Kakashi pries off the lid, reaching down into the crate until his hand closes around a familiarly shaped container. He pulls it out, twisting off the lid to get a glimpse at what lies inside. A handful of tiny clear pills. They seem so insignificant. So harmless. But they’re not. Kakashi knows that now. 

He can’t help but remember last night. The way his body rebelled against the memories, the feelings he had tried so hard to rid himself of. The withdrawal he felt then. Still feels now. 

He can’t go through that again. He recaps the container, shoving it down into his pocket. He reaches back into the crate, grabbing handfuls more. As Kakashi fills his sweatpant pockets full of the pill containers, he doesn’t register the faint flare of chakra slowly approaching. Only when his pockets are full does he still and hears the faint footsteps coming nearer, echoing off the stone walls. 

_Damn it! How could I have not noticed someone approaching?_

Kakashi mentally berates himself for his distraction as he quickly fixes the lid back onto the crate. Today is not his day. 

He conceals himself in the shadows behind the ceiling-high shelves, reaching for a kunai and refusing to so much as breathe lest the person in the corridor hear him. He tries to focus on suppressing his chakra, listening for any sign that the person down the hall is heading his way, but the hammering of his heart is making it difficult to hear anything but the unsteady rhythm of his own body. 

The echoing footsteps come nearer, their soft connection with the stone floor reverberating eerily in the tomblike silence of the underground facility. 

Kakashi closes his eye, listening to the sound intently. It’s still approaching, echoing up the hallway. Someone must be leaving the facility. Or they’re headed for the room Kakashi is currently hiding in. 

He braces himself as the footsteps get even closer, so close they must be passing right by the door, but then they start to fade again. They’re heading out of the corridor, leaving the cold and the dark of this base behind them. 

Kakashi relaxes. He opens his eye and allows himself to breathe normally again. His heartbeat slowly starts to even out as he releases the tension in his shoulders. Only then does he realize that his hand is gripping a pill container rather than a kunai, his knuckles turning white from their death grip on the small plastic vial. 

He reluctantly shoves it back into his pocket, emerging from behind the shelf. He has to leave before someone else shows up. With one last sweeping glance around the room, Kakashi turns to leave, his hand unconsciously clenched over the pills in his pocket. 

 

 

The first thing Kakashi does when he slips through his window after running all the way back from the ROOT facility is firmly shut the blinds, shielding himself from view but also cutting himself off from the rest world. 

Then he makes his way to the bathroom, pulling the stashed pill containers out of his pockets. He stows them on the shelf behind the mirror, watching his reflection ripple through deformity as the mirror swings shut, hiding the pills from view. One bloodshot eye stares back at him, repulsed but resolved. 

He breaks eye contact quickly, grabbing the towel and throwing it over the mirror. Like the curtains shut out the world, Kakashi shuts out himself. 

He looks down at the last vial, still held in his fist, and leaves the bathroom behind. He heads for the bedroom instead, sinking down into the mattress, elbows resting on his knees as he sits with his head in his hands. 

Resting on the bedside table next to him, a small picture frame glimpses back into the past. Into a past where Kakashi wasn’t alone. He looks into the face of a child who knew pain, knew suffering, but still knew how to love despite that. And next to him, two other children stand, alive and real, not the phantom figures that flit through his darkest dreams and memories. And above them, a shockingly yellow head of hair and a smile, shining more through the deep blue eyes than the curved lips below. 

_Sensei, what do I do now?_

But it’s a photograph. A memory. A vague recollection of a feeling. It doesn’t answer. 

His grip tightens on the vial, and he looks down at his hands, breathing deeply. He unscrews the lid, tipping the container onto its side and shaking it until a pill slides onto his outstretched palm. It shakes ever so slightly. 

He glances back up to the photograph, but this time, he sees another face there too. Tenzō smiles back at him, frozen in time, but his eyes pierce into Kakashi’s and something sharp twists in his chest. 

In that moment, it’s not even a decision. It’s survival.

He tips the vial, and another pill slides out onto his palm. 

He breathes. Then he swallows. 

Relief washes over him, but it’s only for a moment. Then he goes blissfully numb.


	6. Apathy

Sweet affliction sweet affliction  
Singing as I wade to heaven   
-Susan Howe

Tenzō is freaking out.

As he replays the events of their last mission over and over in his mind, looking for any clue as to what’s going on with Kakashi, he shudders when he remembers the low, menacing tone of his voice that still sends prickles up his spine and the flat deadness in his eye that makes Tenzō flinch just thinking about it. 

He can’t get those damn eyes out of his head. One all dark shadows and violent crimson, a physical reminder of his past, a weight to carry, a brutal memory to live with every day, and the other a smoke screen, a closed door. When they met, Tenzō had been struck by how much emotion he could see in Kakashi’s eye, how much feeling was swimming in that smoky grey iris. But now, it’s elusive and infuriating and bone chillingly vacant. 

Tenzō lays back on his bed, balling his hands into fists and rubbing his bleary eyes. He’s lost too much sleep in the past few days. Lost too many hours to swirling thoughts, worrying about what could possibly have happened to Kakashi to make him this way. 

Tenzō wonders what he’s doing now, where he is, what he’s thinking about, if he could be thinking about Tenzō. But Kakashi’s voice rings in his ears, soft but inexplicably grating.

_There’s nothing for you to fix._

_It’s not worth the effort._

He sits up, fists clenching into the mattress as he swings his legs around and off the bed, sitting up in one swift motion and vehemently shaking his head as if to clear out the voice still ringing in his ears. It doesn’t work. It merely echoes, distorts. 

_Nothing for you to fix. Nothing._

Tenzō stands, stretching his arms out and exhaling loudly. Sitting around isn’t going to help. He has to do something, has to move, has to take action. He makes his way to the door before turning around and walking back to the bed. He’s pacing. This is what Tenzō does when he’s overanalyzing something. It’s a nervous habit he was never quite able to shake even after all these years. He knows he’s an open book when he gets like this. 

But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how it looks, how weak or frantic he seems. He only cares about one person’s opinion of him. One person’s feelings about him. And as fate would have it, that one person is decidedly shutting him out. 

“Damn it!” Tenzō swears through gritted teeth. 

Although Kakashi didn’t technically do anything wrong on the mission, he wasn’t the same, didn’t use the same judgement he normally would. Sure he followed the mission’s orders to a tee, but it was as though he could only see in black and white, like all the other colours were missing from his spectrum, like he was absolutely blind to anything but the objective. 

And he had never pulled rank like he did on their last mission before either. He had never talked down to Tenzō until then. _He_ was the one that told Tenzō to drop the honorific when they first met for goodness sake. Tenzō tries to convince himself that he’s not making excuses for the fact that maybe Kakashi decided he doesn’t like him, maybe even hates him. But he can’t get that moment out of his head. That one moment on their first mission together when they had looked into each other’s eyes and everything had just clicked. It couldn’t all be in his head. It just couldn’t. 

Especially after what Raidō and Genma had told him. He’s not imagining it. They see it too. Kakashi feels something for Tenzō, something strong enough for him to feel the need to shut Tenzō out, something strong enough to scare him. 

_No_ , Tenzō thinks, feet stilling mid pace as he makes his decision. _If there’s something to fix, if there’s even the faintest glimmer of feeling, I’m going to find it and fix it and never let go._

_Never._

Tenzō slams his clenched fist onto the dresser, a sign of resolve, a sign to himself that he’s not going to let this go on any longer. He’s made a decision. 

But as his fist connects with the flat surface, it shakes through the wooden structure, causing the few trinkets that had collected there over the years to fall over, toppling to the floor. He sighs and stoops down to pick them up and replace them, to fix the small tokens and mementos of his past firmly back on the dresser where he can see them, his few personal items on display, but only for himself. He lifts a small picture frame from where it had fallen face down on the floor of his room, carefully turning it over to examine the photograph held within. 

It’s his team. Not his first team, not the squad he was on in ROOT; after all, they never would have taken a photograph together. No, this is Tenzō’s first real team. The first time he felt like he was truly a part of something, that he mattered, that he didn’t have to be afraid, that he didn’t have to be alone. 

This memory captured static in time, this solitary photograph, for some reason brings tears to the corners of his eyes, and he reaches up, wiping them away, hand stilling as he looks down at his younger self. His younger self that was only a child when he fled ROOT, a child that didn’t know camaraderie or friendship or love.

_Family_ , he thinks. They were the closest thing Tenzō ever had to a family. They, after years, after countless missions, after having his back, after making a real connection with him, became his precious people. They were the ones who proved that wise shinobi right. They showed Tenzō how to trust, how to care, how to love. 

After Tenzō’s encounter with Minato, with that compassionate and gentle man that Tenzō came to look up to more than anyone else, he left ROOT. He left the darkness and the shadows and the lies behind him and stepped out into the daylight without so much as glancing back. Those were his first steps into a real life. Into a life where he was truly living. 

He no longer had to suppress his emotions, no longer had to pretend like his actions weren’t eating him alive from the inside out. He escaped that life and never looked back, only looking straight ahead at the people who had taught him his own strength. 

As a young shinobi—as a child—Tenzō had looked up to his teammates as older siblings. He was an advanced and incredibly skilled shinobi due to his ROOT training and his rare Mokuton ability, but his ROOT squad had never operated like a cohesive unit, like a real team. And when Tenzō finally discovered what it was like to have other shinobi, other people, looking out for him, he knew that he had made the right choice. His team became his family, its members his older brothers and sister. He grew to love them, just as they grew to love him, the youngest member of their team, the little brother they welcomed with open palms and protected with clenched fists. 

They saved him. And Tenzō knows he owes so much to his makeshift family, more than he could ever hope to repay. But he never forgot who he owed it all to.

He had looked up to Minato most of all, to the shinobi who would sooner wield his heart and his head than any weapon, to the hokage who loved his village so much that he died to protect it, to the man who found a little boy crying in the dark and led him back into the light. 

Tenzō has suspected for years now that Minato raised his case to the hokage, that Minato was the reason he was able to leave ROOT, that he intervened somehow. He will never know for sure, but something in his heart tells him that Minato kept watching out for him, almost like a father. 

And when he died, Tenzō had grieved. He had fallen to his knees, clutching at his heart where an invisible kunai was twisting slowly, steadily. And for a brief time, Tenzō forgot Minato’s words, lost in the pain and the grief he was almost consumed by. How could love be a strength when it had such power to hurt? 

But Minato’s legacy lived on, the village lived on, and his teachings lived on in the hearts of those he touched when he was alive. His words couldn’t stay buried for long. 

Tenzō’s team, his family, helped him through it. They stuck together through every trial, through every hardship. And even when their paths led them separate ways, when Mamoru had joined ANBU, when Ko became an academy teacher, when Haru became a medic, they never lost their connection, their love. It kept them strong, still keeps them strong. 

Although, Tenzō hasn’t confided to them about Kakashi yet. He hasn’t seen any of them in weeks, and it’s been months since they were all in one place at the same time. He knows Ko will chew him out for not updating her right away when he met Kakashi, but Tenzō’s been a bit busy lately. And he wants to fix things with Kakashi before then. No, he _will_. 

Tenzō straightens up, placing the photograph carefully back on the dresser as he makes his plan. He’s going to find out exactly what is going on with Kakashi and resolve it. There is no plan B. There is no other option. He’s made up his mind, and there’s no backing out now. Tenzō does not desert the people who are precious to him, the people he loves. 

And Tenzō loves Kakashi. 

 

 

Tenzō watches the sun rise from his spot on top of the roof. 

He couldn’t sleep last night, not after his decision to help Kakashi at any cost. Instead, he had stayed up late planning what to do, thinking through the implications and repercussions of any action he might take. He had barely slept at all, and yet he had still woken to the very first rays of light peeking over the mountains and the chirping of early morning birds outside his window. Normally, he would have reveled in the warmth, in the soft light and the tuneful sound, but this morning when he woke, he was instantly anxious, pacing through his apartment in search of his supplies and already on edge. 

After his rushed preparations, he had hurried here. And now he just sits, waiting for any sign of movement below from up on his roof-top perch, as the sun rises higher in the sky. 

As he waits, the street below starts to come alive. The shops open when the sun is fully risen, and soon the street is filled with people, shinobi and civilians alike, going about their morning business, walking or chatting with friends or shopping as the street vendors set up their stalls for the day. 

The soft morning light and the bustle of the people below sooth Tenzō as he waits anxiously above, unobserved by most. And the shinobi who do notice him or note whose apartment building he’s currently waiting on, sitting cross-legged on the ledge a few stories above the street, don’t approach him. It’s not abnormal for shinobi to get around by running from roof-top to roof-top, or simply sitting high above the streets, watching, waiting. 

And no one makes a move to talk to him, so he doesn’t move. He merely waits, which is exactly what he came here to do. 

Today is the day he figures out what is going on with Kakashi. 

So he sits, and he waits, and he watches. He listens for the faintest noise from the window below him, watches for the slightest movement from the apartment beneath his feet. He came to wait, and wait he will. He’s not planning on moving until Kakashi does. That’s when he’ll make his move too. 

He waits, and the morning sun climbs higher in the sky, approaching noon. The street vendors sell lunch to the people lining the street below, and Tenzō ignores the way his stomach grumbles as the smell of cooking food wafts up to meet him. 

He’s a shinobi, an ANBU operative, damn it, and he would die before letting his appetite ruin his watch… no matter how good the food smells or how tempting it would be to just jump down off the roof, only for a moment, a second really, to grab some food. But Tenzō reminds himself why he’s here, who he’s here for, and his appetite is suddenly replaced by a twisting, squirming sensation in his stomach. He’s on a mission, and he’s not leaving this roof-top until he sees Kakashi. 

And the day goes on with little to no sound from the apartment below. Tenzō would be worried that Kakashi isn’t even there, but the seal on his window had been sealed from the inside, which suggests that Kakashi is inside, locked away from the rest of the world, that Kakashi has sealed himself away. 

Tenzō watches the sun slowly start to descend from its apex in the sky, and soon the shops are closing and the food carts are being packed up and the people in the streets are clearing out to go home for the day. 

When the first stars appear in the fading light, Tenzō hears a definitive noise from below. There’s movement in the apartment. His breath catches, but he forces himself to relax. He needs to be ready at any moment. 

The window below him slides open, and all Tenzō sees is a flash of silver hair as Kakashi jumps out from his window to the roof across the street and starts running. He doesn’t think Kakashi noticed him, but still, he counts to five before following the darting figure flitting over the roof-tops and into the swiftly approaching night. 

 

 

“Shit!” Tenzō swears after half an hour scouring the trees where he lost sight of Kakashi. He has no clue where the Copy-nin could have gone. On one side of him, the thick trees grow close together and cast shadows across the rock wall on his other side. It’s a dead end. And Kakashi is nowhere to be seen.

He tries to sense Kakashi’s chakra, but either he’s too far away, or he’s masking it. And neither are good. But Tenzō hopes it isn’t the latter, because if Kakashi did realize Tenzō was following him and decided to hide, there’s no way Tenzō will find him now. He might as well go back and regroup. Kakashi has to go back home at some point, and Tenzō is exhausted. He could use a good night’s sleep. Not that he expects to get one when he’s so worried and worked up.

Plus, this place gives him the creeps. He can’t quite put his finger on what it is, but something about the place feels eerily familiar. It’s uncanny. The way the wind whistles through the gap between the trees and the cliff sends shivers down his spine, almost like he’s heard it before. The tree branches illuminated by the cold glow of the moon cast elongated and shifting shadows on the rock wall, and this too feels like something he’s seen before. Maybe in a nightmare. 

Tenzō exhales, breathing out his uneasiness and his frustration. 

Staying here is not going to help him find Kakashi. With one last glance around at the smooth face of the cliff, he turns back in the direction he came from, heading home for the night. He can start again tomorrow with what he hopes will be a better plan than just follow Kakashi to see what he’s doing. He has to confront him, but he doesn’t know what to say, what will push him over the edge. But he’s going to find out.

 

 

The next morning, Tenzō sits cross legged on the slanted tiles of the apartment roof, looking out on a familiar view as the sun lights the scene around him, painting the village in soft, glowing lines. It’s actually quite a beautiful view, one that he could get used to, and it would be soothing, but Tenzō isn't exactly in a calm state of mind right now. He’d tried to sleep when he got home, really, but instead he paced around his apartment for most of the night, formulating what to say to Kakashi when he comes face to face with him again. 

He runs over some of the things he’s thought of in his head. They all sound completely pathetic or cheesy now, but that’s not going to stop him. He’s determined. And when Tenzō is determined to do something, there’s no going back. He feels hard and falls hard and fights hard. He puts one hundred percent of everything he has into everything he does, and this is no exception. Kakashi is no exception. 

Tenzō closes his eyes for a moment, simply feeling the sunlight warm his skin as it filters through the morning air, palms outstretched, waiting. 

Then he hears a noise below. 

Tenzō opens his eyes in an instant, already pushing silently to his feet. He takes a breath as he perks his ears, listening for any other signs of life from the apartment below. His breath catches when he hears the window slide open, and he sees a dark blur with a glint of silver dropping down to the street in one fluid motion. 

From up above, Tenzō can see Kakashi land lightly on his feet, pulling out his trademark Icha Icha novel and promptly hiding his face behind it. Then he heads off, walking down the street and leaving Tenzō to stand there dazed for a moment before he jumps down and follows at a distance. But not as much of a distance as yesterday. He doesn’t want to lose Kakashi again, and there are more people out and about now than there were last night, more people for Tenzō to hide behind as he weaves through the crowd of early risers strolling down the street to the market. 

Tenzō keeps both eyes firmly fixed on the man in front of him, his eyes tracking the bob of silver and the blurr or orange as he winds his way through the marketplace. As he walks, he clenches his fists, working up the courage to say the words that have been playing on repeat in his mind since he woke up before the sun had even risen.

Tenzō almost loses Kakashi when he suddenly turns a corner, his mind buzzing with anticipation for the confrontation he knows is coming. Luckily, Tenzō catches a quick flash of orange out of the corner of his eye and follows Kakashi around the corner and down another street, this one with fewer people. 

_I have to stay focused! I can’t afford to mess this up. This has to work._

He’s bracing himself to call out, to get Kakashi’s attention, to talk to him, when Kakashi turns another corner, and suddenly they’re approaching the treeline. Tenzō mentally berates himself for not paying more attention to where they were headed, but he was too focused on the man himself to notice that Kakashi had led him out of the main part of the village.

Kakashi continues on, never looking up from his book as he makes his way through the trees. Something about it makes the hairs on the back of Tenzō’s neck stand on end, but he pushes the feeling aside. 

As Tenzō walks through the trees pursuing Kakashi, he watches the seemingly oblivious man intently. Something is definitely wrong. He can’t quite identify what’s off, but it nags at the back of his mind and sends prickles down his spine. He squints his eyes, looking more closely in the hopes that he can catch a glimpse of Kakashi’s face, hidden from view by the novel. Then it hits him.

Kakashi hasn’t flipped the page. 

He’s been staring at the same page all morning, ever since he dropped down from his window and opened the book, never once looking up for more than a second. And yet, his eyes stay glued to the book, not taking any of it in. 

Tenzō’s heart races in his chest, and he has to will himself not to gasp out loud. When he had talked to Kakashi about his Icha Icha novels before, one night on their first mission when Tenzō couldn’t stop himself from approaching the fascinating man, Kakashi had talked about the series with such passion. At the time, Tenzō had laughed at his enthusiasm. _Jiraiya_ wrote them, after all. But it had filled him with warmth to know that Kakashi had shared that with him, shared his passion with him. 

And now he’s simply using it as a way to block out the world.

Tenzō’s chest aches. 

He almost doesn’t notice when his surroundings start to grow brighter again as they approach the edge of the treeline. Tenzō conceals himself behind a trunk on the edge of the forest as he watches Kakashi walk out into the clearing. Tenzō recognizes what’s drawn Kakashi here immediately. It’s the memorial stone. 

Kakashi slowly approaches it, face still concealed behind the book. He doesn’t stop until he’s only a few feet away from it. Then he finally lowers his novel. 

It’s not abnormal for shinobi to come here to pay their respects. Especially shinobi with fallen teammates, friends, family. And Tenzō knows Kakashi has more reason than most. He’s lost so much, so many. 

A name comes to mind. _Rin_. That’s what Kakashi had mumbled in his sleep at the hospital. _Obito_ too, on a different night, when they were on their first mission. 

And Minato, Tenzō supposes. 

He may have been the bright beacon of hope that showed Tenzō the way out of the darkness of ROOT, but he was Kakashi’s _sensei_. Tenzō knew this, but for some reason, he had never really made the connection until now. They shared a love, a loss, for someone. They grieved together for him, though they were apart. Even though they never met, they felt the same pain. 

It tugs at Tenzō’s heart. 

He wonders what it would have been like if they had known each other then. Would they have comforted each other? Would the loss have driven them apart? 

He wishes with all his heart that he could have been there for Kakashi. And that Kakashi could have been there for him too. But Tenzō had his makeshift family, his team by his side. They supported him. 

Tenzō wonders if Kakashi had anyone like that after Minato died. 

He can’t imagine how he would feel if he had to go through it alone. His chest clenches again, and he blinks to clear his stinging eyes before they start to blur his vision. He grips the bark of the tree he’s been leaning on, his fingernails digging into the rough exterior. He needs to stay grounded. 

He looks out at Kakashi, standing perfectly still, more like a statue than a man, as he regards the stone with the names of all the Konoha shinobi fallen in battle written on it. His hand hangs limp at his side, Icha Icha still clutched in his loose grasp. But then two things happen at once.

Kakashi suddenly moves from his stone-like position, his head cocking to the side as he shrugs in indifference and then turns away, drawing his book back up to cover his face.

Tenzō’s blood boils at the sight, and the tree beneath his hand snaps as he tightens his hold, then rushes out into the clearing without thinking.

Kakashi is already on the move again, having stood at the memorial stone for less than a minute, and Tenzō speeds behind him, swiftly closing their distance as he yells.

“Kakashi.”

“Kakashi!”

“ _Kakashi!_ ”

But he gets no response, not even the slightest flicker of recognition, not even a flinch. His heart pounds in his ears. 

Tenzō catches up with him and reaches out his hand in a desperate, shooting motion. It clamps onto Kakashi’s shoulder in a death grip, but before he can even open his mouth, Kakashi is whipping around. His novel falls to the ground as he knocks Tenzō’s hand off of his shoulder, reversing their positions so that Kakashi has Tenzō in the vice-like grip. Tenzō is caught completely off guard by Kakashi’s sudden move, and he trips, falling hard to the ground as his hands flail out to break the fall. 

Kakashi leans over him, and his visible eye seems to flicker into even darker shades of grey as he scrutinizes Tenzō. Only now does Tenzō realize that Kakashi is holding a kunai to his throat. 

He gasps, trying to choke out a sentence, a simple word. “K- Kakashi?”

Kakashi glares down at Tenzō, one arm constraining his movement and pushing his chest into the ground and the other gripping a kunai, poised and pressing into Tenzō’s gulping throat. 

“What do you want from me?” he hisses. 

His gaze is razor sharp and bone-chillingly cold, and Tenzō forgets everything he was planning on saying. He merely stares up at the man above him with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Well?” Kakashi seethes between clenched teeth. The kunai presses even closer to his throat, stinging as the thin layer of skin beneath the sharp blade starts to bead blood, slowly running down the edge of the knife and dripping into the grass below them. 

“I-” Tenzō starts, feeling the unwelcome sting welling up in his eyes again. “Something is obviously wrong, Kakashi. Let me help you!”

Kakashi narrows his eye, piercing into Tenzō’s watery brown ones.

“Why are you even trying to help me?” he asks, his tone cool, but it burns like acid in Tenzō’s ears. 

“Because I care about you, Kakashi!” 

_Because I love you_ , he doesn’t say. 

“Why?” Kakashi practically screams. “Everyone who ever cared about me ended up dead. Anyone that I ever care about ends up dead. So stop!”

The white rings around Kakashi’s dark grey irises are bloodshot. His hands start to shake, but his crushing pressure on Tenzō’s chest never relents, and his kunai stays pressed dangerously close to Tenzō’s throat. 

Tenzō opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. The only sound that he can manage is a choked breath. He feels nauseous, like he’s going to pass out, like he’s living some sort of terrible nightmare. 

_This can’t be real. This can’t be happening._

But it is. 

Finally, words come ripping out of his throat, desperate and shrill. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He regrets it instantly, but it’s too late to take it back. And honestly, he doesn’t think the situation can get any worse at this point. 

But then Kakashi speaks. 

“For the first time in my fucked up life, there is nothing wrong with me. I’ve been _cured_.” 

Kakashi releases him in one swift motion, retracting his kunai and stepping back and off of Tenzō. He stoops to pick up his book from where it lies on the ground, brushing it off slowly before raising it back up to obstruct Tenzō’s view of his face. 

From down in his position on the ground, all Tenzō can see when he looks up are a pair of hands, violently shaking as they cling to the orange book. 

“Kakashi-” Tenzō starts, but it’s too late. 

He turns and leaves without so much as looking back down at the trembling mess of a man he left lying on the ground at his feet. 

Kakashi is gone, a small pool of blood collected on the grass the only evidence that he was ever there. 

_Cured?_ Tenzō thinks. He’s going to find out what’s going on and save Kakashi if it kills him. And at this point, it just might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh Tenzō my poor baby! I didn't realize quite how dark this fic would be when I started, but I'm totally enjoying writing it and getting your feedback, so thank you everyone who has commented! I'm going to pull a total cliche line and say it's always darkest before the dawn. And morning isn't too far off.


	7. Sensibility

Ten thousandth truth  
Ten thousandth impulse  
-Susan Howe

He’s back again.

Tenzō sits in his now familiar perch on the roof of Kakashi’s apartment, watching the street below as the hot noon sun beams down on him. At this point, he’s here more than at his own apartment. It’s getting ridiculous. But it’s not like he can stop now. Not when he’s come this far.

His fingers absentmindedly trace along the knick that runs across his throat, a thin red line, still fresh as it was yesterday. It’s not deep, but it stings. But it’s not the cut that really hurts anyways. It’s his chest. There’s a rather nasty purple bruise forming on his sternum where Kakashi had held him down with more force than was strictly necessary. Tenzō was frozen in place despite Kakashi’s restraining grip. He couldn’t have gotten up even if he wanted to. Not with that kunai pressed to his throat and the dark, bloodshot eye piercing into his. 

Tenzō shakes his head violently to try to get that particular image out of his mind, but all it does is cause his chest to hurt. But more than that, just below his ribs, he feels a dull ache that has nothing to do with his physical injuries. 

That was the closest he and Kakashi had ever been. Kakashi was hovering only a few inches above Tenzō, his face so close to Tenzō’s own that he could have reached out and touched it if he hadn’t been frozen in place both by Kakashi’s grip and his steel gaze. And let’s just say that the kunai pressed to his throat hadn’t been a part of what Tenzō had imagined his first intimate encounter with Kakashi to be like. Not even close. 

Tenzō presses a hand to his chest lightly, trying to sooth the ache, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the image of Kakashi looming over him. That wasn’t the Kakashi Tenzō knew. That was someone else. Someone who had been… _cured?_

He turns the strange word over in his mind. It was an odd choice of word on Kakashi’s part. Too specific. Cured implied some sort of deliberate action to… to rid himself of something? 

_But what would he need to cure?_

Tenzō opens his eyes when he hears noise below. Footsteps approaching the window. He hunches down on the roof, waiting.

Directly below him, the window opens, and a familiar quicksilver shape drops from the sill to the street below. 

Tenzō holds his breath as he watches the figure, dressed all in black, make his way down the road. It looks like he’s headed in the direction of the administrative building and the Hokage’s office. He must have a meeting or some sort of official business to attend to. 

When Tenzō can no longer see Kakashi in his line of sight, he silently swings over the edge of the roof and onto the window sill. He hesitates for a moment, thinking about what he’s about to do. Breaking into Kakashi’s apartment is a huge violation of trust. But Tenzō is worried. Worried that Kakashi will hurt someone, or maybe even himself. The pleading sobs of the cornered rogue shinobi echo through his mind, and he sees a flash of red. He has to do this. For Kakashi and for everyone else. 

The window is sealed shut, but for an ANBU shinobi like Tenzō, it won’t take too long to crack. He channels his chakra through his fingertips and into the seal, feeling the familiar warm buzz as he works on untangling the series of shapes drawn onto the small piece of paper. After a few moments of intense concentration, Tenzō feels the seal give way, and he carefully slides the window open, slipping through as discretely as possible and closing it immediately behind him. 

He halts, glancing around the small space intently.

_So, this is Kakashi’s apartment._

Something squirms in Tenzō’s stomach. Anticipation, worry, guilt? Likely all three. 

He takes a deep breath and pushes on, stepping into the centre of the living room and looking around in a circle as he takes in his surroundings. To the left, a small brown couch faces the window, a coffee table sits in front of it, and a tall bookshelf leans against the far wall next to the couch, full of different sized volumes to the point where he’s started double stacking new rows in front of the old. Tenzō can’t help but smile as he spots the familiar bright orange covers all neatly lined up on one shelf, but it quickly turns into a grimace when he remembers what happened the last time he saw Kakashi with one of them. 

He can’t help it. He walks over to the shelf, running his hand along the spines. He pulls one of the painfully orange ones out when something in the title catches his eye, slowly opening the cover with such care that it seems more like he is analyzing a fragile antique rather than a well worn novel. He skims over the title page, _The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi_ , but the title isn’t what causes his breath to catch in his throat. It’s the words handwritten in pen below. 

_To Minato, my gutsy student. When I wrote this story, I had hoped one of my students would bring about the change in the shinobi world that would create peace and end all conflict. That was a long time ago. But I still have hope for this story, hope for your story that is yet to be written. And I look forward to seeing it one day. -Jiraiya._

And below that, in a different hand:

_To Kakashi, the only student I can pass this on to. I know your heart is filled with loss, and I know that right now, you feel like nothing can fill that hole, that dark and seemingly bottomless void. But you have to have hope. Hope that you can continue on, grow, and become a better shinobi, a better man than me. This story brought me happiness and hope and inspired me to pursue my dreams for a better world, to become Hokage. I hope it can do the same for you. -Minato._

Tenzō simply stares at the page. 

This feels like an intrusion, well, more of an intrusion than just Tenzō standing in the middle of Kakashi’s living room uninvited. This feels like an intrusion into Kakashi’s past, into his heart. And yet, he can’t bring himself to be sorry about it. 

Minato’s words, they finally bring home just how alone Kakashi must have been after Minato died. 

Kakashi’s voice rings in his ears.

_Everyone who ever cared about me ended up dead. Anyone that I ever care about ends up dead. So stop!_

He’s not there yet, but he’s beginning to understand how terrified Kakashi must have been when Tenzō got so close to him so fast. The overwhelming emotion he could see swimming in that one visible eye. 

He thinks back to the hospital, to how Kakashi had cried in his dream, cried for his dead teammates, cried for Tenzō. How Kakashi had fled when he looked into Tenzō’s eyes. 

_Did- what did I say?_

_You mentioned that name again. Rin. But, you also said my name. You sounded so sad. So terrified. Kakashi, what can I do?_

_I- nothing. I can’t-_

_I can’t._

The pieces are starting to come together. And it’s a brutal, tragic picture. But there’s one significant piece still missing. What happened in between then and now that caused Kakashi to change so drastically. To become someone else entirely. 

Tenzō closes the book carefully, almost with reverence, and he’s about to slide it back into the space between two other books when he stops himself, hand freezing partially extended. He doesn’t know why he does it, but instead of replacing the book where he found it, he slips it into his pocket. Something tells him he’s going to need Minato’s words, his strength, to get through this, to get through to Kakashi. 

He turns away from the bookshelf, scanning the other half of the room where the kitchen sits, nestled in the corner by the window. He opens the fridge and isn’t surprised to see that it’s entirely empty. Tenzō isn’t the greatest role model when it comes to eating healthy, but at least he has a few necessities in his fridge at all times. This doesn’t seem like a good sign. 

Next, Tenzō turns to go into the bedroom, but as he approaches the threshold, something in his stomach churns, and his heart starts to race. 

_Not yet_ , he thinks. _I’m not ready yet._

For what, he doesn’t quite know.

Instead, he walks into the only room left: the bathroom. It’s a tiny room, only housing a shower, a toilet, and a sink vanity. But what catches his interest—what makes his stomach drop and his heart clench painfully in his chest—is the mirror, covered up by a towel that hangs off the top corner of the medicine cabinet. His heart bleeds for this man.

A man who can’t even look himself in the eye. 

Tenzō forces himself to exhale, but it comes out shaky. How could he have not realized how much Kakashi was hurting? 

But as he looks at the cabinet, his heart begins to race again. The weight of the towel must have caused the mirrored door to open a crack. Tenzō reaches out to open it, but he pauses for a moment. This might be going too far. 

_Shit_ , Tenzō thinks. _Why is this so damn hard?_

And he’s already taken too many liberties, seen too much. After what he read in Kakashi’s book, nothing will even come close to that invasive. He reaches the rest of the way, swinging open the cabinet. And his heart stops.

Rows on rows of pill bottles meet his gaze. 

Tenzō grabs one, surprised by how light it is. He shakes it, but the rattling noise he expects doesn’t meet his ears. Instead, he hears a dead silence. It must be empty. He turns it over in his hands, reading the tiny print on the label, and with every word, his heart twists, and he becomes more and more nauseous. 

_The Cure. 1 pill every 12 hours. Do not exceed recommended dosage._

“The Cure?” Tenzō asks aloud. His voice echos in the small, tiled room, sounding strange to his own ears. 

Suddenly, he’s brought back to what Kakashi had said before he disappeared yesterday, leaving Tenzō alone by the Memorial stone. 

_For the first time in my fucked up life, there is nothing wrong with me. I’ve been_ cured. 

So, this is what he meant? This is what Kakashi resorted to? This is what’s been affecting him, what changed him? 

Tenzō narrows his eyes, reading the even finer print below the main text on the label.

_Arsenic trioxide. Long term side effects to be determined._

Tenzō doesn’t know much about chemistry, but even he knows that doesn’t sound good. The name alone sends a shiver down his spine. He’ll have to look it up, but judging by the sinister sounding name and the warning on the label, it’s not good. 

He replaces the empty vial on the shelf in the cabinet, grabbing one that feels more full. He doesn’t hesitate this time. He pushes and twists the cap, and it pops off in his hand. When he turns it sideways and shakes, a small, clear pill slides out and onto his palm. 

This is definitely not good.

_Just hang on, Kakashi._

 

 

Tenzō slumps back in his chair, sighing as he glances around him at the tall stacks of books and scrolls piled up on the desk. He’s only made one discovery so far. He hates chemistry. 

He rubs his eyes, glancing out the records room window. It’s already dark. When did that happen? Tenzō’s been here for hours, and he hasn’t found anything useful yet. He’s sifted through book after book on different chemicals, all of them damn near impossible to pronounce or that sound like they’re lethal poisons. 

He reaches for another scroll, blinking away the dry tiredness in his eyes. He unrolls it, scanning the text and various complex diagrams for any mention of Arsenic trioxide. He has nothing to go off of except that he knows it’s some kind of chemical. A chemical that Kakashi is taking vials full of. 

His eyes scan down the length of the scroll, and his breath catches when he finally, _finally_ sees it. _Arsenic trioxide_. Right there in black ink. Below the name, there appears to be some sort of diagram of the compound, a chemical blueprint. Even this doesn’t look good. And next to the diagram, there’s a small paragraph on the information known about this chemical. Tenzō doesn’t understand the majority of it, but what he does understand makes him suddenly nauseous. 

It’s poison. Honest to God poison. 

Kakashi has been drinking a chemical cocktail with the side effect of probable death. Even if the pills he’s taking are a diluted form the of the chemical, the poison must be taking its toll on him physically. It explains why Kakashi looked so terrible, why he was so pale, why his eyes were bloodshot, why his hands were shaking. But what it doesn’t explain is _why_ Kakashi is willingly ingesting this toxic nightmare of a pill. 

He pushes himself to read on, through the horrible list of side effects, looking for any other useful information. What he reads next makes him drop the scroll, his heart pounding painfully, his breath coming heavy. 

_Other side effects are less physical, attacking the mind instead. Known cases of long term exposure to this compound have resulted in memory loss, lack of empathy, loss of emotion, clinical apathy, and in the most severe cases, psychopathy._

Tenzō would refuse to believe it, would say it can’t be true, but it’s right there on the paper in front of him. Right there in black and white. He grabs the scroll again, smoothing it back out on the desk and scouring the rest of it for any other tiny piece of information, but all he finds at the end of the scroll is a notice that all further research is strictly classified. By whom it does not say. 

But this drug, _The Cure_ , is practically all poisonous, carcinogenic, death-chemicals mixed into one hell of a powerful and mind numbing drug that will inevitably give the recipient massive bodily and brain damage if consumed for long. And judging by how many bottles he found in the apartment, it’s not looking good for Kakashi. In all likelihood, he’s walking around Konoha numb and half dead. And there’s only one person Tenzō can think of that would ever have a drug like this created and manufactured. 

Danzo. 

Everything comes back to Danzo. 

Try as he might, Tenzō can’t quite escape the shadow following behind him, the dark past he tried to forget, the trauma of his childhood that steals behind him like a ghost in the night. His mind goes back to the dark place he thought he had forgotten, the cold, black, pit that was his home. An underground operation, the root below the surface, slowly spreading beneath the village. And Danzo is at the centre of ROOT. 

Tenzō’s mind is whirring, his body numb, but he still manages to pull himself out of his daze long enough to roll up the scrolls, shoving them back in the dusty shelves he had discovered them in and grabbing the stacks of books, sliding them back into place. If ROOT is involved, he can’t let anyone know he knows about any of this. Danzo can’t find out that a ROOT defect stumbled upon his newest horrific experiment. That would spell disaster and death.

But he can’t exactly keep this to himself either. He doesn’t know what to do. All he can do right now is erase any evidence that he was here and leave before someone notices he was ever there. He glances around the musty room, making sure he’s checked everything, not left any traces of himself anywhere, and then he’s out the window, running.

 

 

He’s not sure if he made the right decision coming here, but he taps lightly on the window anyways. To Tenzō’s surprise, it’s Genma, not Raidō, that opens the window for him. Though he really shouldn’t be, given how they act around each other. 

“Oh, Tenzō, I’m glad you’re here. We have a new mission.” 

“Shit,” Tenzō replies, sliding through the opening. Once he’s fully in, he eyes the apartment as Genma shuts the window behind him. “Where’s Raidō?”

“Mm, he’s in the shower,” Genma says as he rolls the senbon in his mouth. He comes to stand next to Tenzō, peering at him with mild interest. “Why did you come here anyways? You didn’t know about the mission yet did you?”

Tenzō gulps before answering, suddenly feeling totally self conscious and like maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea he’s ever had. 

“I came to talk to Raidō.” He pauses for a moment, glancing down at his feet. “About Kakashi.”

“Been keeping an eye on him?” 

Tenzō turns quickly to see Raidō leaning on the doorframe, hair wet and arms folded across his chest, regarding him with a serious face. He nods. 

“That’s what I was here to talk to you about, but-”

“But now we have a mission,” Genma adds, exchanging a glance with Raidō. 

Raidō drops his arms, walking over to stand next to Genma, facing Tenzō. He cocks a brow, waiting for Tenzō to supply them with more information. But suddenly Tenzō isn’t sure this is the right time to get into all of this. Especially now that they have a new mission to prepare for. 

“Yep, that’s basically it. I wanted to,” Tenzō hesitates for a moment, trying to find the right words, “to talk to you about why Kakashi has been, well, you know...” 

Raidō and Genma nod, their eyes never leaving his. Tenzō balls his hands into fists.

“But, I guess now isn’t exactly a good time.” 

He knows it, but it’s hard to say. Hard to accept. He doesn’t want them to go on another mission after what happened last time, after what Tenzō just found out, but they can’t exactly ignore the mission and stage an intervention instead either. He might not have a chance on the mission to talk to Genma and Raidō privately, and he’s not sure if telling them while on a mission is a good idea either, when they should be focusing on whatever the mission objective actually is. 

Tenzō tries to formulate a new plan in his head. He can keep an eye on Kakashi from a distance, watch him like a hawk, but he won’t be able to get close to him. Not after what happened yesterday at the memorial stone. It’s too risky. All he can do right now is wait and hope the events of their last mission don’t repeat themselves. 

_I won’t let that happen again. Not if there’s anything I can do to stop it._

Tenzō’s brought out of his silent fretting when Raidō replies, the worry in his eyes betraying his calm demeanor. “You’re right. Our mission starts tonight.”

Tenzō’s stomach clenches as Raidō continues. “This morning, Kakashi was called to the Hokage’s office and given a scroll. Our job is to transport it to Suna secretly and make sure it gets directly to the hands of the Kazekage. It is of the utmost importance that this scroll does not fall into enemy hands. Kakashi’s been plotting our route, and we’re supposed to be regrouping at the South gate at Nine, once it’s dark. We’ve been given forty-eight hours to complete this mission, as it’s a time sensitive communication from the Hokage directly to the Kazekage.” 

Tenzō releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. As long as the mission goes according to plan and their journey stays a secret, there shouldn’t be any complications. And when they get back, he’s going to tell Genma and Raidō everything. 

“Okay,” he breathes, determined to get through the next forty-eight hours. “I’ll meet you at the gate at Nine.” 

Raidō and Genma nod, looking slightly more relaxed at Tenzō’s response, at his steady voice full of resolve. 

 

 

As Tenzō approaches the gate, three figures come into focus, standing out against the tall wall looming behind them. They’re dressed entirely in black, except for the grey ANBU chestplates and animal masks, which only makes them more imposing. But Tenzō would recognize them anywhere, even with the masks covering their faces. One casually leaning against the wall, body turned slightly to the man on his left with a katana strapped to his back, and on their right, a tuft of grey hair sticking up above the mask and a tanto handle visible over his shoulder. 

Tenzō stops in front of them, his own mask firmly in place, but it does little to hide his anxious body language, betraying his worry. 

Kakashi is the first to speak, addressing all three of them. “I have four scrolls here.” He pulls them out of a pocket, handing them out to each of his teammates. “These three scrolls are identical looking to the real one, which I will carry. The others contain explosive tags. We’re going to head West from here until we reach the Land of Wind, then head directly for Suna. This is a time sensitive mission, so we can’t waste any time. Let’s head out.”

And without another word, they’re off. Tenzō slips his scroll into his kunai pouch, hoping he won’t have to use the explosive tags inside. But there’s already a huge weight off his shoulders. His first encounter with Kakashi after what happened at the Memorial Stone didn’t seem to phase Kakashi at all. But then again, now Tenzō knows why. He shivers. 

How is it possible to be so acutely threatening one day and completely neutral the next? Those pills, those vials full of poison, are truly terrifying. He has no idea what to expect, no clue what will set Kakashi off. But he does know it’s best if he keeps his distance for the time being, so he stays in the rear, separated from Kakashi by Raidō and Genma who trail one behind the other but stay close. 

_It must be nice_ , Tenzō thinks to himself as he watches the two of them running ahead of him, _that they can rely on each other so much, that they’re so close._

Something in his chest twinges painfully, and he has to force himself to look away from them. He doesn’t want to dwell on what he doesn’t currently have, what he thought he and Kakashi could have had, did have for a short time. He’s going to get it back. 

Tenzō focuses instead on the burning in his legs as he bounds from branch to branch. The rigid time constraints of their mission mean they’re going to have to run straight through the night and into the middle of the next day. They will only get a break once they’ve delivered the scroll safely and before they have to head back to Konoha. It’s going to be a long forty-eight hours.

As he watches the trees burr past in the darkness, only illuminated by the faint glow of the moon overhead, Tenzō tries to figure out exactly what to say to Genma and Raidō when he finally tells them about what’s been going on with Kakashi. He knows that whatever he says, they’ll be willing to help, but he doesn’t know what they will be able to do. His immediate goal is to help Kakashi, to save him from himself. But he can’t just ignore everything else. ROOT. Danzo. And what can they do against that? 

It’s with these dark and swirling thoughts that Tenzō spends the next handful of hours running through the trees, seeing half formed thoughts and distant memories play themselves out in the shadows that streak by. 

 

 

When they reach the border of Suna, the sun is rising above the horizon, and the trees are swiftly giving way to swaying grasses and rolling hills painted golden in the early light. It would be a peaceful sight, a calming sight, but something in the air makes the hairs on the back of Tenzō’s neck stand on end. His gaze sweeps the field around them, seeing nothing but the tall grasses bending in the breeze. 

It’s too calm, too serene. 

But nothing is out of place. Nothing stands out. He can’t sense any shinobi presence other than those of his teammates, their chakra signatures little flares of familiarity in an empty stretch of land. He pushes his worry aside. If Kakashi, Genma, and Raidō haven’t sensed anything either, then it must be fine. Afterall, his imagination does run away with him sometimes. 

They maintain their speed, climbing over the gently sloping hills at the same breakneck pace, darts of black and grey in the golden grasses. Tenzō has no worry that they won’t make it to Suna before midday. They’re already in the Land of Wind, and once they hit sand, they’re golden. 

It doesn’t take long for the hills to even out and for the grasses to slowly diffuse into the great expanse of sand stretched out before them. The late morning sun beats down on their heads as they speed across the desert, footsteps so light they don’t even leave footprints behind. 

The whole ways, Tenzō couldn’t quite rid himself of a nagging feeling that something was off, and quickly approaching the looming walls of Suna, the feeling only grows stronger. The team shoots past dunes of sand, curving through the terrain to make it as quickly as possible to the main gates of Suna, now only a few miles away. Tenzō can make out the details of the wall and the gate that surround the sandy city when the feeling spikes through his body. Something is definitely wrong, and he can’t ignore it any longer. 

“Ambush!” Tenzō screams, fits already clenched around a handful of kunai as he whips around to protect their rear. 

Behind him, he knows that Raidō and Genma have lunged into action, weapons raised, and in front of the pack, Kakashi’s tanto is pulled from its sheath with a soft, dangerously smooth sound. 

Suddenly, a gust of wind like a scythe cuts through the air, stirring up sand in a whirl of violent gusts. 

_Fūton jutsu_ , Tenzō thinks. _This is not good. Not in Suna._

He throws his kunai out, shooting them over the dunes of sand where he thinks the jutsu user is likely hiding, but the wind only picks up, knocking them into each other and pushing them off course. They sink into the sand with a defeated thud, and Tenzō switches his tactic. 

Wood shoots from the ground around them as Tenzō’s Mokuton jutsu blocks the worst of the wind and sand from pelting them head on. Instinctively, they all back up closer to each other, forming a circle with their backs to each other. 

“We have to get that scroll to the Kazekage at all costs.” Kakashi yells over the sound of sand picked up by the wind and bombarding their temporary sanctuary. “Raidō, you’re the best at the body flicker technique. Take the scroll and get out of here while they’re still stirring up the sand and won’t notice.”

Raidō agrees, exchanging scrolls with Kakashi. He gives Genma a quick look that he returns with a nod before flickering away, and just like that, there’s three of them left to face off against however many shinobi are surrounding them. 

“I can’t hold this much longer,” Tenzō warns, bracing his Mokuton walls against the barrage of sand and wind. 

“Release it on three,” Kakashi instructs, all three of them preparing to pounce once Tenzō releases the jutsu. 

“Three!”

They dart out in flickers of black reflected off of the bright sandy terrain. Tenzō leaps over a dune, spotting the Fūton jutsu user crouched low to the ground to avoid getting pelted by their own jutsu. His hands speed through the familiar seals, and thick branches burst from his palms, shooting down at the shinobi. 

She glances up just in time, lunging back to avoid getting hit, and the sun glints off her hitai-ate. 

_Iwagakure? They must be trying to sabotage relations between Konoha and Suna. This is really not good._

When the kunoichi releases another jutsu, sharpened air slicing through the wood, Tenzō jumps to the side, landing lightly on top of the sand. He distracts the shinobi with another Mokuton, wooden branches once again speeding towards her, but this time when she slices through it with her jutsu, Tenzō is already behind her, kunai flying towards their target. 

The ground beneath his feet shakes, and he whips around to see a wall of stone erupting from the out of the sand. He rushes in that direction, spying Genma take down an Iwagakure shinobi with a fistful of senbon. An explosion rips apart the stone wall, sending shards of rock in every direction. Tenzō quickens his pace. 

He sees Kakashi fighting off four shinobi at once, tanto swinging in an arc, forcing all four to keep their distance. Tenzō’s joining in the fight in a flash, his shuriken sinking into an unexpecting shinobi whose concentration is fully on the man in front of him. And how could it not be. 

Kakashi whirls around, somehow managing to be graceful and deadly all at once. His hitai-ate is pulled up beneath the mask, revealing his sharingan, which pierces into the remaining three shinobi, analyzing their slightest movements, seeming to predict what they will do before they even think it. 

Tenzō wouldn’t be worried about Kakashi in this fight in the slightest, except that he looks off, wrong somehow. He’s pale and panting despite his powerful and swift attacks, and there’s a slight tremor to his movements. If he wasn’t looking for it, he might not notice it, but Tenzō can’t help but see how Kakashi’s tanto shakes slightly in his grip, and his stomach drops. Kakashi is not okay. 

Tenzō watches, almost in a daze, as Kakashi drops his tanto, immediately releasing a raiton jutsu. Bolts of blue electricity shoot out of his hand, hitting one of the shinobi in the chest. He keels over instantly, and Tenzō can taste ozone in the air. 

Kakashi is gasping for air now, and he rips off his mask to try and get a better breath. He braces his arm as the blueish lightning sparks down from his shoulder to his hand, flickering pale light across his face, illuminating a sheen of sweat covering his brow that appears to be more from his current condition than physical exertion. He looks really unwell. 

“Kakashi!” Tenzō screams.

He can’t help himself. He can’t let Kakashi use up all of his chakra in his condition. Something is very, very wrong, and Tenzō knows why. 

_The Cure._

These are the effects. Kakashi is fighting off a swarm of shinobi and the poison burning through his veins all at once. 

Before Kakashi can strike his opponent, Tenzō is there, taking them down with his Mokuton, the pointed edge of the wood ripping through the thin armour. He turns frantically to see if Kakashi is still on his feet, but his heart stops when his eyes find him. 

The last Iwagakure shinobi is lunging at Kakashi, katana coming down above his head, and Tenzō moves on instinct, shielding Kakashi from the blow with his jutsu. But the sword is coming down too hard, likely affected by a doton jutsu, making the blade harder. It stabs through the wood, piercing Tenzō’s right shoulder. 

Blood seeps out of the wound, sending shocks of pain down his arm and into his chest, but Tenzō barely registers the pain. His eyes widen as he watches the shinobi fall, a senbon stuck in his neck barely visible. 

But Tenzō doesn’t have time to look for Genma, who must be near by. It’s all he can do to turn and look at Kakashi. And he chokes on his breath.

Kakashi lies crumpled on the ground, arm outstretched in his last unsuccessful action, the chidori burned out, leaving his palm singed but empty. 

_No._

Tenzō drops to his knees beside him, clutching his shoulder to stop the bleeding. Kakashi is unresponsive.

_No!_

Genma kneels beside them, arm outstretched and already taking Kakashi’s pulse. Tenzō watches through a fog. He can’t speak. This is his fault. He should have said something. He should have done something. Anything.

“Tenzō, he’s going to be okay. He’s just unconscious. Must be chakra exhaustion.”

Genma’s words sound oddly distant in Tenzō’s ears, reverberating around but not really sinking in. He clutches at Kakashi’s shirt, fists full of the black material, soaked with sweat and covered in sand. 

“It’s not.”

It’s all he can manage, his throat constricting so he can barely breathe let alone talk. He simply stares at Kakashi. 

He doesn’t know how long they’re there, how long he stays like this, until he’s brought back into reality by a firm hand being placed on his left shoulder. Tenzō looks up, and Raidō meets his gaze, eyes dark. His other hand rests on Genma’s right shoulder, and he looks between the two of them when he speaks. 

“I got the scroll to the Kazekage, and he sent reinforcements, but I see that it was too late. You took care of them all?”

Genma nods, rising to stand up next to Raidō. They both look down at Tenzō and Kakashi, faces full of concern, but Tenzō doesn’t see it. All he can see through his blurred vision is Kakashi’s ashen face, tensed up as though in pain even while he’s unconscious. 

“We need to get you both back to Konoha.” 

Tenzō knows Genma’s right. They have to leave, but even so, he has a hard time releasing his grip on Kakashi’s shirt. When he finally lets go, the material remains scrunched where his fists were balled in it. 

“Okay,” he breathes, but instead of standing up, he leans over Kakashi, ignoring Genma and Raidō’s questioning looks as he rummages through Kakashi’s kunai pouch, fist closing around a familiar vial. “But we also need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeeeeep... I know. I'm sorry. But it gets better! Promise <3 
> 
> As always, thank you for your feedback! I love hearing from you!


	8. Withdrawal

In relation to detail every first  
scrap of memory survives in  
sleep or insanity  
-Susan Howe

The last thing he remembers is someone screaming his name.

His whole body was shaking like a leaf, and he could barely stand. Everything was burning. He could hear the sinister crackling of fire or lightning near by, and he could feel scorching pain shooting through his rigid right arm. All his hairs were standing on end, and he was shivering uncontrollably, racked with the effects of the drug and the electricity coursing through his feeble body. 

And someone was screaming his name. 

He could taste ozone and copper in his mouth, but his tongue was numb. He couldn’t speak. The last word he tried to choke out, the last word on his lips as everything around him went silent and dark, was Tenzō. 

 

 

The next sound Kakashi becomes aware of is a series of muffled beeps. They distort through the thick pitch blackness surrounding him, barely audible and unidentifiable. He tries to move, to sit up, but he’s immobilized, frozen in place, unable to lift even one finger. The darkness presses in on him, and he gives in to the force, letting it pull him back down into oblivion. 

But it’s different this time. It’s not an empty blackness anymore. He can breathe again and move. Kakashi sits up, opening his eyes, but as soon as he does, he wishes he had kept them shut, wishes the crushing emptiness back. 

He’s in Konoha, in the middle of the village, or what’s left of it. 

Fire streaks across the smoky sky, casting flickering red and black shadows across the destroyed remains of buildings. Stone and wood and glass lie shattered across the street, a violent wreckage strewn with crumpled bodies. His nostrils fill with smoke, but he can also smell the distinct metallic scent of blood. 

The world is spinning the wrong way around. Everything is lurching and shaking, and Kakashi feels like he’s going to pass out again. But he forces himself up, both eyes sweeping the wreckage for any signs of life. But he doesn’t need to ask anyone what’s going on. He’s relived this night enough times to know. The dread in his heart builds, constricting it tightly in his chest. 

October tenth, six years ago. 

He hears screaming and runs in that direction, through the streets littered with the remains of buildings. When he turns a corner, the noise becomes almost deafening. Civilians and shinobi alike fill the square, and all are starring in horror as the village is destroyed before their very eyes. The Kyūbi whips its tails around, thrashing in a fiery orange barrage of havoc and destruction, sending shrapnel in all directions. 

Kakashi spots the Sandaime with a group of academy age children and some that look older, likely genin and some chunin. He runs over, skidding to a halt in front of the Sandaime, breathless and terrified. 

“Kushina- I can’t find her! Or Minato!”

Kakashi is silenced by Hiruzen, hand held up to stop him mid sentence, a grave look on his face. 

“Kakashi, Minato took her away when she went into labour. And the seal has been broken.”

Kakashi freezes. He knows that to have the Kyūbi wreaking havoc on Konoha, the seal must have been broken, that something must have happened to Kushina—to the person left in his protective charge—to his mother figure, the woman who took him in when he had no one else in the world—but he was too frantic to think farther than that. 

“I have to find them! Sandaime, where are they?” 

The old man looks apologetic when he responds, “I’m going out to look for them now. I need you to stay here.”

Kakashi is about to protest, to disagree with him, to tell him it’s Kakashi job to protect them, that Minato assigned him to protect his wife, _trusted_ him to protect his wife, and he can’t fail them. But no words come out. His throat constricts. 

“Kakashi, Minato has ordered for all shinobi under the age of twenty to go to the caves with the civilians and children. I need you to go. Please take this group with you, and any more you find on your way. I’m sorry, but this is what the Yondaime wants.”

Finally, the words of protest that had been bottled up in Kakashi’s throat burst out in a frantic admission. “I can’t abandon them! I’m not some academy kid. I’m an ANBU operative, specially assigned to protect the wife of the Yondaime. I-”

Hiruzen stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder and a stern look. But his eyes betray the worry and grief that his frown masks. 

“Kakashi, please. Take the children to the cave. This is what Minato wanted. I promise you, I will find them. They will be okay.”

Kakashi’s stomach plummets. He wants desperately to find Minato and Kushina, but he can’t go directly against an order from both the Yondaime and the Sandaime. He clenches his fists, trying to fight against the fear crushing his heart. 

“Okay,” he breathes, “I’ll take them.” 

Hiruzen is gone in an instant, only pausing for a split second to glance at Kakashi, eyes full of apology and regret. 

 

 

Kakashi stumbles back to his apartment numb. He’s in shock. He can’t believe it. 

They’re dead.

Minato and Kushina are dead. 

And he could have saved them. 

He walks through the village silently, not taking in anything but the feeling of his feet hitting the ground, one step in front of the other, until he’s finally there. He climbs over the sill and into the dark room, exhausted to the bone, weary beyond belief, and unable to even begin to comprehend what just happened. 

He sinks down into a chair, his head hitting the table as he slumps in complete exhaustion and defeat. But there’s something on the table. Something he doesn’t remember putting there. 

He lifts his head slowly, surprised to see a book lying in the middle of the table, its orange cover too bright in the dimness of his kitchen. He hasn’t been home in a few days, so anyone could have come and gone in that time, leaving behind the book. But Kakashi is sure whoever left it must have done so before the Kyūbi attack. 

He hesitates for a moment before reaching out to grab the book, a strange feeling coming over him. The last few hours have been a waking nightmare. Everything he knows has crumbled. Everything is different now. And he’s not sure if he’s even awake anymore. But this small object—this book—makes him pause. 

It feels heavier than it should when his fingers finally close around it, and he glances at the cover more with an impending sense of importance than curiosity. _The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi_. 

His heart lodges itself somewhere in his throat.

He’s seen Minato reading this novel before. It’s his favourite. But Kakashi had never asked him about it. Even though he had been curious. And yet, here it sits, on his rickety kitchen table in the dim light the morning after Konoha has been attacked. The morning after its owner has died. 

_Sensei._

He clutches at the book, his fingers digging into the hard cover as they start to shake. It’s all he can manage to flip open the first page, and when he does, everything he has seen in the past few hours, every heart wrenching loss, comes flooding in as he reads and rereads the inscriptions, his eyes going blurry. 

Kakashi clutches the book to his chest as he finally allows himself to let go of everything he has been bottling up for the past few hours. His whole body shakes with sobs that tear through his frame as tears fall freely for his lost family. 

 

 

The next thing he knows, he’s awake. 

The beeping is clearer now, steady but disconcerting all the same. His eyes are closed, but he can see orange light through his clenched lids. He squeezes them in a vain attempt to block out the light, and he’s suddenly very aware of how dry his throat is. It feels like he hasn’t had water in days. He tries to shift, but he can’t manage to move. His body is still immobilized, but now he understands why. It’s not from exhaustion or fear. It’s because he’s tangled so tightly in blankets. There’s only one place he could be, and he’s woken up here enough times to know. The hospital. 

Kakashi manages to unglue one eye, squinting in the bright fluorescent flood of light. A sharp pain behind his eyes starts to throb in time with the beeping from the machine next to his bed. Or maybe it’s been throbbing this whole time? His head is still too fuzzy. 

He finally manages to open his other eye, ignoring the way spots of purple and green dance in his vision as he stares up at the overhead light. He takes a deep breath, the cool air burning as it travels down his parched throat and into his lungs. His chest aches too. But he can’t quite remember why. 

Kakashi starts to slowly sit up, fighting against the darkness pressing in around the edges of his vision. His stomach lurches with the effort, and he can taste bile in his throat, but he forces himself into a semi-sitting position anyways, ignoring the nausea. 

He blinks to clear his vision of its bright and dark spots, gaze sweeping over the small hospital room with its familiar antiseptic smell and bright clinical whiteness. When his gaze drops to his bed, the beeping speeds up, a shrill reminder that, even after all he’s been through, he still has a heart. 

Tenzō lies, slumped sideways out of the plastic chair that he’s positioned next to Kakashi’s bed, his head resting on an arm that reaches out in his sleep, only a hair’s breadth away from Kakashi’s own hand. There are dark purple bags under his eyes, and in the ghastly light of the hospital room, he looks too pale, too tired, despite being asleep. 

But even more so than that, when Kakashi spies the bandages wrapped around his shoulder and the sling cradling his other arm in place, something in him breaks. The protective wall keeping his memories at bay breaks. And everything comes flooding back.

He’s drowning. 

Kakashi gasps for air, but the world is spinning again, just like it did in his dream. 

The mission, the ambush, the fight, the effects of the pill, Tenzō jumping in the way, then blackness. It bombards his mind, the shards of memory coming together to form a picture, slicing him as they fly past and the cracks are mended. They’re reflecting a image, and it’s him. Sallow skin, bloodshot eyes, a sheen of clammy perspiration, shaking hands, pupils blown wide but unable to see anything other than the horrendous image right in front of him. 

This is his fault. Tenzō is hurt because of him, his impulsive actions, his symptoms, his failure to control himself. He’s lying crumpled over the edge of Kakashi’s hospital bed, wounded shoulder hunched in a painful looking position. But what truly hurts him, what twists sharply like a kunai in his chest, is the thought that after everything he’s done, after all the horrible things he’s said and done to him, Tenzō is still lying here. Tenzō is still at his side, hand outstretched towards him.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve this loyalty, this faith, this love. 

_Because, what else could it be if not love? Why else would he have persistently stood by my side, never given up on me, never left repulsed by my actions, by me pushing him away._

His chest aches as he looks down at the one person he had allowed himself to love, after all this time, after promising himself to never care again, to never love another person that would one day leave him. 

Remembering his words to Tenzō at the Memorial Stone, Kakashi flinches. He had been speaking the truth. But the look on Tenzō’s face as he said it—told Tenzō to stop caring about him—it takes his breath away. He didn’t fully realize before now that Tenzō must not want to lose anyone else either. It was pure grief, pure pain written across his face as Kakashi loomed over him, telling him not to care. 

How could he? How could he have hurt Tenzō in that way? 

A voice in the back of his mind whispers that it was to protect him, to stop Tenzō before he could get hurt. But Kakashi silences that voice immediately. He knows that it was purely for his own benefit that he said those things. He had been trying in vain to rebuild the wall around his heart that Tenzō had broken through, and in reality, it had the opposite effect. He broke both their hearts. 

And he can’t forgive himself for that. 

Kakashi looks down at his clenched fists. The long, pale fingers are white at the knuckles, shaking. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but judging by his pounding head, twisting stomach, and violently shaking limbs, it’s been too long without the Cure. He’s starting to get faint again. 

He peels the medical tape from the back of his hand off, tugging out the IV tubes and removing the wires attaching him to the whirring and beeping machines. As the beeping ceases and silence falls over the room, thick and ringing in his ears like a physical absence, Tenzō starts to shift. 

Kakashi freezes, not daring to move, let alone breathe. He can’t face Tenzō right now, not when he’s in this condition. Not when he’s the reason Tenzō is here in the first place, bandaged and looking like he hasn’t slept more than a few hours in the past week. 

With bated breath, Kakashi watches as Tenzō comes back into consciousness. His outstretched fingers twitch slightly, and his eyes squeeze tighter before slowly flickering open. Kakashi practically melts at the sight of those unfocused chocolate brown eyes beneath the dark lashes, unworried and full of sleep for a brief moment, before Kakashi can see the realization hitting him, brow furrowing and eyes focusing on the man half sitting in front of him. 

He can’t speak. His throat is too tight. And he has no idea what to say anyways. He waits for Tenzō to make the first move. 

The room is painfully silent as the seconds stretch on, neither man able to look away from the other, but both unable to speak. But then Tenzō opens his mouth and shatters the silence surrounding them like a pane of glass.

“Kakashi.” 

It’s breathless and so quite that Kakashi isn’t sure he even spoke, but then he speaks again.

“I’m-” but he can’t seem to be able to get out any more words. 

Instead, Tenzō reaches out his hand. Kakashi flinches and tries to pull back, but Tenzō either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He intertwines his fingers with Kakashi’s, holding them tight as if he’s afraid Kakashi will disappear at any moment. And he’s not wrong. Kakashi was about to flee the hospital when Tenzō woke up, and the need to get out of here is only increasing with every painful beat of his heart. 

As Tenzō squeezes his hand, he manages to speak again, his voice more solid this time. 

“Kakashi, how are you feeling? You’ve been out for three days.”

Kakashi’s stomach plummets. 

Three days? Now it’s no surprise why he feels like he’s been completely wrung out, sick and faint and trembling. 

“Three days?” Kakashi manages to choke out, his voice hoarse, almost unrecognizable to his own ears. 

Three days without the Cure. Three days without the only thing that’s been keeping him from going completely insane. And he’d been taking twice the recommended dosage, blatantly ignoring the warning on the label. No wonder he feels like he’s only a heartbeat away from death. 

_So this is what real withdrawal feels like_ , Kakashi thinks as his insides writhe and his heart rate increases painfully. 

It’s infinitely worse than before. It feels like the first time he came down off the high of apathy but a thousand times more acute. He doesn’t know if Tenzō’s presence is helping or hurting, easing the pain or making it even harder to bear. 

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s been clenching Tenzō’s hand until he winces in pain, but Tenzō doesn’t pull away. 

“You passed out on the mission in Suna,” Tenzō supplies, his eyes dark with the memory. “Raidō got the scroll to the Kazekage, but you were out by the time he got back. Genma and Raidō took turns carrying you back. I would have, but-”

He gestures weakly to his shoulder with a nod. 

“I’ve been so worried about your condition. I’ve been here since they released me from my own room.”

Kakashi’s heart is beating even more rapidly now, and he’s suddenly very glad he disconnected himself from the heart rate monitor. He tries to speak, wills the words he’s been repeating over and over in his mind to come out. 

“Tenzō, I’m-” 

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me._

But it doesn’t come out. He freezes as Tenzō’s deep brown eyes stare into his, full of emotion, full of anticipation. He simply can’t get out those particular words. It’s too hard. But before he can help himself, he’s saying something entirely different. 

“My kunai pouch.” He says it almost like a question. 

Something flickers across Tenzō’s face. Fear, sadness, understanding? 

He releases Kakashi’s hand, leaving a cold absence Kakashi hadn’t realized was the only thing grounding him. As soon as Tenzō lets go, Kakashi starts to shake again, and his head _throbs_. 

Kakashi can’t breathe as Tenzō reaches behind himself, sifting through his own kunai pouch. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls something out from it, tossing it to Kakashi, his eyes almost black, closed off, indecipherable. 

Kakashi is surprised by his own reflexes as he catches the small object with an outstretched hand. Instantly, he knows what it is. 

_The Cure._

Everything is moving in slow motion. Kakashi feels his hand tighten around the vial as if of its own accord. He can see the emotions flash through Tenzō’s eyes in succession. Anger, fear, betrayal, resolve, and then something else, something faint but bright, a tiny flickering flame of light in behind the darkness. 

Whatever it is, it scorches right through him, searing the emotion on the back of his retinas, and his hand instinctively tightens on the vial. He has to look away. He breaks eye contact, instead looking down at the small object in his hands. 

His fingers twitch as he unscrews the lid and tips it over his hand. But nothing comes out. It’s empty. 

The bile rises up in his throat again. He has to choke everything back down. His churning stomach, the piercing pain behind his eyes, the look on Tenzō’s face. 

“It’s all gone.”

Kakashi’s heart ceases to beat for a moment. 

“All of it.”

Kakashi raises his eyes to meet Tenzō’s. But he doesn’t see anger there, nor hurt, nor even fear now. It’s sympathy. Care. 

“It’s gone.” 

“H-how?” 

His voice cracks, and he stares intently at the man before him. 

“Well, I’m not a _completely_ useless shinobi. Something was clearly very wrong. Still is.” he corrects, as he watches Kakashi intently. 

“No, how?” Kakashi implores, his eyes desperately, searching. “How can you continue to care? How can you not hate me? How have you not left me? … how?” 

He forces back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He’s spent too long suppressing his emotions to let them take over now. 

“How?” Tenzō’s voice is much stronger now. “Because I- I care about you. Because despite what you may believe, you’re not alone. Because I’m not giving up on you. Because no matter what you’ve done or what you say, you’re still the same Kakashi that laughed with me on our first mission and saved me from the cave and stayed with me in the hospital. Because you care about me too, no matter how much you wish you didn’t.”

Kakashi simply watches in shock as Tenzō breathes deeply, fist clenched around his own, voice full of sincerity and eyes full of fire. But he’s not done.

“I am never going to give up. I am never going to leave you. You need to get that through that thick skull of yours, you bastard. You don’t have to fight alone. Kakashi, I l-”

“ _No!_ ” 

Tenzō freezes mid sentence, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. 

He can’t say it. Kakashi can’t let him say it out loud. It’s too real. 

He’s already made his decision. He can’t go back now. He’s done too much. He’s hurt too much. He won’t ever be able to repair all the damage he’s done. And he can’t let Tenzō throw his heart away, his life away, like this. Not for him. 

His whole body is shaking, the room is spinning, and his breath is coming heavy. 

“I can’t let you do this.” 

_I’m so sorry._

Tenzō is still frozen, but Kakashi can see the exact moment his words hit home, can see the exact moment his heart breaks. 

He knows because he can feel it too. The unbearable pain. 

It’s all too much. 

Blackness threatens the corners of his vision again as fire courses through his veins, but he pushes back with all of his strength. He has to get out of here. He has to leave before Tenzō can say something that can’t be taken back. Before Kakashi changes his mind. Before he loses all control and stays. Before he damns them both. 

He’s standing up in one swift motion, arm stretched out to steady himself against the wall. He looks at Tenzō, sees his heartbreak in his eyes, sees his own heart shattered there along with Tenzō’s. 

It takes all the strength he possesses to turn away, towards the window. 

As he slides it open and slips out into the dusk, he pauses, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks.

“Tenzō, I’m sorry.”

And with that, Kakashi flees the hospital.

He flees and doesn’t look back. But somehow he knows, Tenzō is following, somewhere far behind him, not quite a shadow, more like a piece of himself trying desperately to connect back, to make him whole again. 

And still, he runs. 

 

 

Kakashi streaks like a wisp of wind through the waning light. He hasn’t stopped running despite how terrible his symptoms have become. His pounding head is threatening to make him ill at any moment, and his limbs are so heavy that he can scarcely lift each foot to continue on his route, but he still presses on. There’s somewhere he needs to be. Something he needs to find. And he doesn’t know how much longer he can make it. 

Trees blur past, mere stretching shadows in his line of vision, as he makes his way through the woods. He doesn’t need to look up at the night sky to know that there are no stars shining down tonight. The heavens are empty now, just a void.

Kakashi bursts out from the trees, still sprinting as his lungs burn in protest. He barely registers his surroundings as he passes through a clearing. But something about the place makes him slow infinitesimally, just enough to glimpse around the wide expanse of grass. 

Then he sees the stone. Then the memories start piercing in.

 

 

Kakashi is in front of the memorial stone, the sun just starting to rise over the snowcapped tips of the mountains, casting a serene pink glow over the field. Everything is still. But his mind is spinning out of control. 

His knees press into the ground as he kneels, head hung low, unable to look fully at the stone. It’s as though he can’t look at their names directly, can’t look into the eyes of those carved here. The dew from the wet grass seeps up the thin fabric of his pants, chilling him to the bone in the cold dawn air, but he can’t bring himself to move from his position. 

He doesn’t know how many hours he’s been here, in this exact position, unmoving as the stone set before him, but he does vaguely recollect that the sun was only just starting to set when he first arrived. And it feels like an eternity has passed, but also no time at all. It’s like this whole clearing, he himself, is frozen in space, a captive of grief and of time. 

No amount of kneeling here, cold seeped into his very being, heart ripped out an on display in the words before him, will atone. No amount of regret, no amount of repentance or pain, will bring them back. So he kneels there, unmoved by the wet or the cold or the passage of time. He becomes a monument too, their names engraved on his heart as they are on the stone. Along with his broken promise.

_Obito, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save her. I promised you, and I couldn’t save her._

He digs his fists into the ground, dirt collecting beneath his fingernails. 

_Rin, I can’t ever forgive myself, and I don’t expect you to either. But please—you were always the compassionate one—please make the pain go away._

Silence.

Ice seeps into his heart. No amount of warmth will thaw it. His body is slowly going numb from his hunched position on the ground and the morning chill, but it does nothing to slow his mind. It’s like a blizzard of fire, burning frozen crystals of memory into his heart, scorching him with a glacial flame. 

But then he feels something soft, something warm. Kakashi remembers a gentle but firm hand placed on his shoulder, guiding him to look away from the ground, to look up. A sad smile meets his gaze. Blue eyes soft as the summer sky and dark as the depths of the boundless ocean. Kakashi remembers his words too.

“Kakashi, you have to stand.”

Kakashi looks up at him. His grief is clear to see, etched into every line of his face, in the very way his eyes soften at the boy shaking below him. Kakashi doesn’t know how he has the strength, but somehow, with that warm hand on his shoulder guiding him, he rises to his feet. 

“Minato Sensei, how do I make it stop… the pain? How do I turn it off? How-”

But the words can’t make their way out of his constricted throat. Tears burn in his eyes, and he doesn’t bother trying to stop them. 

Minato brings his second hand up to rest on Kakashi’s other shoulder, bracing him as he looks into his eye. When he speaks, his voice is full of warmth, full of an impossible hope Kakashi can’t bare to hear.

“Kakashi, this pain, this grief, it’s natural. I know right now you want to forget everything, to be free of this awful pain, but that would be destroying their memory, destroying their love for you.”

Minato’s grip tightens as he speaks, his voice urgent with meaning. All Kakashi can do is listen.

“I know you’ve lost so much, too much. A brother and a sister. But you’re not alone in your grief. When you lost your comrades, your friends, your siblings, I lost my students, my children. And nothing will ever be able to entirely fill that void, to take their place in my heart, but I wouldn’t want it to. Kakashi, we will always carry those we care about, those we love, with us. And I can’t promise that the pain will go away. But love, pain, that’s what makes us human. Without that feeling, without love, you’re not truly living.”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching Kakashi’s, before he pulls him in, solid arms wrapping around the child who was forced to be a man. And in that moment, with the indescribable warmth and comfort and unconditional love surrounding him, he lets a fraction of his worry slip away, the jagged memories dulled by his embrace, and just for a second, he becomes a child again. Then Minato continues, his soft voice stealing away the pain crystallized in his heart. 

“And Kakashi, you are loved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry. I think this is the last of the agonizing Kakashi flashbacks. I just felt like it was necessary to glimpse into his darkest moments to fully understand why he had to take the Cure. Plus, I’m a sucker for Minato, and my self-indulgence has me writing him in anywhere I can.


	9. Love

Secrecy let me light you in  
In shadow something other  
echoed and re-echoed only

The dark who can veneer it   
That conjoint abstraction will  
come to snow let us go back  
-Susan Howe

Tenzō simply sits there for a moment in complete silence, a cool breeze wafting through the window left wide open.

Kakashi is gone. 

Kakashi is gone _again_.

Even after everything Tenzō said to him, he left. And he took a piece of Tenzō’s heart with him when he went. 

_No!_

Tenzō flinches at the sound reverberating in his head, Kakashi’s voice, terrified, imploring, begging him to stop. Not to say what he’s been bottling up pretty much ever since he met him, ever since their first mission together. 

But the thing that gets him, the thing that twists in his chest like a knife, is that it wasn’t a snub, wasn’t a denial of his feelings. It was the defence of a man who felt the same way but was too hurt and scared to let it in. To let it out. 

Tenzō clutches at his shoulder as it twinges sharply. Sleeping in that horrible hospital chair for two nights probably wasn’t his most brilliant idea, especially when still recovering from his own injury, but he wasn’t about to leave Kakashi alone. Not in his condition. 

But at the same time, he was there for himself too. He just can’t seem to stay away from Kakashi, not even to get a good night's sleep. Though he doubts he would have slept at all if he wasn’t right here in the hospital next to him. 

_Except now he’s gone... again. Damn it!_

Tenzō scrunches his eyes shut, pressing his palms over them in a vain attempt to block out the eerie fluorescent lights that are giving him a headache. Along with other things. 

He’s not sure what he should do at this point. Does he chase after Kakashi and try to talk some sense into him again? Does he leave him be for a while to let his words sink in? Tenzō knows that would be a mistake. Kakashi is likely already on his way to get more of those vile pills. The look on his face when Tenzō threw him the empty container, it was heartbreaking. But the panic—the _need_ —in his eye when he tipped it over and realized it was empty, that was infinitely worse. 

So no, Tenzō is not about to let Kakashi run off and find more pills. Except, he already did. He’s gone, out the window, disappearing into the dimming light. And Tenzō is frozen here, hunched over, hands still covering his desperately closed eyes, as if he can erase all of this if he wills it hard enough. 

Maybe he should talk to Raidō and Genma first. Afterall, they’ve been here almost as much as Tenzō in the last few days. And Tenzō doesn’t know if he would be quite so sane if it hadn’t been for them coming to check on Kakashi and him, telling him it would be okay, being so understanding and supportive. They’re quickly becoming people Tenzō can count on absolutely, that he trusts without a shadow of a doubt, that he cares for like family. He’s truly lucky to have them on his team, on his side. 

Tenzō had been terrified when he told them everything, when he poured his heart out to them and held nothing back as he told them exactly what had been going on with Kakashi. And Tenzō never could have done that if he didn’t know how much they care about Kakashi. Despite the fact that Kakashi willfully kept his distance, refused to get closer than necessary to them, they could see through the tough exterior to the man hurting underneath. But they had never managed to get closer than that.

Tenzō’s stomach churns when he remembers what Raidō had said on one of their missions, about how in one mission, Tenzō had managed to get closer to Kakashi than anyone else, how he had managed to break through his protective barriers to get to the real, flesh and blood person below. 

The thought that Kakashi let him in, _only him_ , even if only for a short while, makes the corners of his mouth turn up. Without thinking, he raises a finger to his forehead, remembering the ghost of a feeling there, the soft brush of lips that were likely a dream and not a memory, but it fills him with warmth all the same. It feels like months ago, years ago. It’s something he’s come back to over and over in his mind, that one moment where he was perfectly content, even if he had been lying in a hospital bed at the time. Even if Kakashi had fled not long after that. 

Tenzō is determined to get that feeling back. That absolute comfort, contentment. And he’s determined to be the same to Kakashi. 

He opens his eyes slowly as though waking from a lifetime of sleep. He knows what he has to do, where he has to go, what he has to say. And nothing is going to stop him this time. 

He pushes back in his chair, deaf to the shrill scraping noise of plastic on linoleum. His heartbeat is pulsing in his ears, the anticipation building with every breath. There’s no time to find Raidō and Genma. He has to go now, before Kakashi can get too far ahead. Even though he only left moments ago, Tenzō knows if he delays any longer, it will be too late. 

And besides, this is something he has to do alone. Just him and Kakashi. Just him pouring out his heart and soul to the man he loves. To the man who cares about him so deeply in return that he’s locking himself away to avoid getting hurt. 

But Tenzō knows with every fibre of his being that if he can get through to Kakashi, if he can only manage to convince him that he will never leave, convince him to let him in, let him share the burden, the pain, the love, everything, they will be stronger for it. He doesn’t have to be alone anymore. Neither of them do. 

With urgency in his steps and fire in his eyes, Tenzō’s out the window, running to where he knows Kakashi will be. 

 

 

As he gets closer and closer to his destination, the anticipation builds in his chest like a crushing weight. It makes it hard to breathe, but he runs on at full speed anyways. He doesn’t have much time to catch up with Kakashi. And he should be able to, given the condition Kakashi was in when he fled the hospital. 

Tenzō flashes through the forest, a bolt of lightning streaking through the dark. When he bursts out from the treeline and into a clearing, he slows for a split second to glance around, taking in the way the pale moonlight reflects off the Memorial Stone, casting a cold glow around the empty field. He can sense somehow—maybe in the way the outcast wind howls through the open air, maybe in the way the names carved into the stone seem to glimmer in the night—that a lonely soul was here. That Kakashi was just here. 

Although Kakashi is too far ahead to be seen, Tenzō knows where he’s going. It all connects. It’s like he’s following a shadow of a memory, his memory. And it’s leading him right to Kakashi. Right to ROOT.

He follows Kakashi’s trail through to the other side of the clearing and back into the trees, but it’s really a memory from long ago that he sees running ahead of him. He’s chasing himself, a ghost of himself, from ten years ago. 

Tenzō watches as the child runs in front of him, leaping phantom like from branch to branch, a translucent image drawing him on, farther and farther into the trees. The flickering memory, dressed in midnight black, steel tanto sheathed behind him, masked as an ashen animal contoured in red, mesmerises him as it darts through the trees. 

All he can think as he sees this shinobi running before him is: _He’s so small. So young._

And it’s true. The full fledged shinobi, the elite ROOT operative, in front of him is the age of an academy child. He’s only seven. And yet, he’s killed. 

This child has killed for this village. He’s been mortally injured for this village. He’s given up his childhood for this village, and his future too. He’s gone on countless missions, operating underground, striking from the shadows, never knowing what or who he truly is, never seeing the light of day. And he doesn’t remember a time when it was different.

Tenzō’s first memories, his first glimmers of awareness, are surrounded in shadow. He was raised underground, and that’s all he knew. As a young child, he knew he must have come from somewhere, must have had a family, had parents of some sort, but he couldn’t remember them. All he knew, all he had been told, was that he was special. Somehow, he had inherited the Mokuton of the Shodai Hokage, though he was kept in the dark about exactly what that meant too. 

And it had been lonely. 

Hopelessly lonely. 

The other ROOT shinobi, the other children, knew who they were. They knew where they came from, even if those memories and allegiances were tested, mutated by Danzo. They had a name. 

And Tenzō was of the earth, an instrument nurtured by Danzo deep below the soil, a secret weapon meant only to surface at the correct time, then delve back into the ground unseen, waiting for the next mission, the next command. 

But something had gone wrong. Something was fundamentally different about him. Perhaps it was the influence of the Shodai’s cells, perhaps it was the fabled Will of Fire burning fiercely in his heart, or maybe it was something else all together. But whatever it was, whatever made him different from the others, it kept him alive when all else would have withered kept so long underground. 

All it took was one faint ray of light, one chance encounter with the person who changed the course of his life, who pulled him out from the depths and gave him the chance to live. 

Tenzō and his almost comical levels of anxiety aren’t big fans of ‘what if’ scenarios, but he knows that if it weren’t for Minato, he might still be down there. Down there where Kakashi is currently trying to get to. Down there where Tenzō’s memory is leading him through the dark. And he’s going to have to face both his past and his present tonight when he finally catches up with Kakashi. 

He’s been complacent for too long, pretending to forget what he once was, where he began. When Tenzō left ROOT, he didn’t look back, and at the time, he thought he was doing the right thing. And maybe it was, for then, for him. But now, the devils in the dark are coming back into focus. The operation he should have been wary of since the day he left, the organization he should have never forgotten, is rearing up from the ground, quite literally, and ruining Kakashi’s life in the process. 

Helping Kakashi isn’t the only thing he wants to do, needs to do. He owes it to the ghost of the past flitting before him and the village in the present to bring this whole operation into the light. Maybe it’s what Minato had been hoping for and maybe not, but Tenzō knows with absolute certainty that it is the right thing to do. 

 

 

Tenzō stops, breathless, facing a stone wall. 

He extends his hand, smoothing his palm along the surface until he feels the faint spike of chakra, and he releases the seal. As the stone slides silently back, revealing a dark corridor, Tenzō shudders. 

He breathes deeply, then takes the first step into the place he hasn’t entered in a decade. The rock slides closed behind him, leaving him in near darkness. The only light comes from torches at distant intervals along the stone wall, creating more shadow than illumination with their red flames. He remains still for a moment, listening for even the faintest sound. 

Then he hears it. Footsteps. Running. 

_Kakashi._

He gives chase. As the corridor slopes downwards, Tenzō picks up his pace even more, sprinting through the dark. He has to get to Kakashi before he can get to the Cure. Otherwise, Tenzō won’t be able to reach him, even if he’s standing right next to him. 

He hears the footsteps ahead of him slow and the faint sound of a door creaking open, just around a bend in the hall. Tenzō throws himself the rest of the way, skidding around the corner and through the open doorframe, into an almost pitch black room. 

As he allows his eyes to adjust to the near blackness, the only source of light the sinister glow of fire from the hall beyond, he can hear Kakashi’s panting. And soon, he comes into focus too. 

Kakashi stands, half crumpled against the side of a massive shelf that reaches up to the high ceiling, obscured by shadow. Tenzō’s stomach drops when he sees just how large the room is, how many shelves there are lined all the way to the far walls of the cellar-like room. His gaze pauses momentarily on the long lab table stretching along one wall, rows upon rows of tubes and vials full of chemicals lined up in factions. Papers lie scattered across the surface, and some are pinned to the wall behind the table, all scratched out in handwritten characters that look more like a frenzy of symbols and equations than words. 

But his gaze is drawn almost instantly back to the figure slouched against the crate-lined shelf. His tangled mop of silver hair lies matted across his forehead, almost entirely obscuring his left eye, which is closed shut, a thin scar running down from his brow to the cheekbone below, right across the lid. The medical mask that the hospital had provided to cover the lower half of his face in place of his usual fabric one is quivering in time with his heavy breathing. He’s still in the thin hospital clothes he was wearing when he fled from his bed, their pale green colour making Kakashi seem even more sickly, skin sallow and clammy. 

Suddenly, Tenzō feels as nauseous as Kakashi looks, the mere sight of him in such pain causing Tenzō’s heart to constrict sharply in his chest. 

He’s filled with an instant and fierce rage as he takes this all in. The room, the shelves, the crates, the chemicals, the papers, the vials full of poison, and Kakashi shaking violently in the middle of all of it. This operation is bigger than he could have feared even in his worst nightmares. 

Tenzō always knew that Danzo had separate divisions dedicated to research—to trying to create even better shinobi, better armies, better weapons—but this is only one of them. This is only one room in a twisted labyrinth spreading like a weed below Konoha. There are surely more rooms, more experiments, more heinous secrets hidden in the dark. This doesn’t even scratch the surface. 

But even this one experiment, this one room, this one tiny pill, has enough power to ruin. This one pill that Kakashi has a vial of clutched in his hands. 

Tenzō takes a deep breath, swallowing down his fear, replacing it with resolve. He can do this. He has to. 

“Kakashi.”

It comes out a little breathy, but his voice doesn’t shake. It’s firm. 

He tries again, this time slightly louder. “Kakashi.”

Kakashi flinches. It’s barely noticeable in the near darkness, but Tenzō sees it. He sees everything. Every tiny detail. Every twitch of his fingers, every quake of his muscles as they protest his precarious position leaning against the shelf, every bead of sweat running down the side of his face and disappearing behind the mask. 

He doesn’t look Tenzō in the eye, but Tenzō knows he’s listening. 

“Kakashi, I meant what I said before. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here to help you. Please, let me help you.”

His throat feels tight, like it’s burning, but he wills his voice to remain calm. 

“I don’t blame you for running,” he says, taking a step closer, tentatively, slowly. “Not for running away from the hospital and not for running away from me. Especially not for running away from me.”

Tenzō takes another small step forwards, barely even moving a few inches, but Kakashi sees it. He doesn’t make to move away, but his fingers tighten around the vial firmly gripped in his fists. Tenzō’s heart thuds painfully in his chest. He’s sure Kakashi can hear it like thunder in the air. 

“But running away won’t actually solve your problems. It’ll only delay them from reaching you. And isn’t the waiting, all that anticipation, worse?”

Tenzō takes another miniscule step, trying to keep his breathing even. 

“Kakashi, you don’t have to wait alone. You don’t have to face everything alone.”

Another step.

“I’m with you now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Tenzō is about to take another step, practically close the distance between them, but he stops dead in his tracks when Kakashi opens his mouth.

“That’s what you say. That’s what they all said. But eventually you’ll be gone. Just like them. Just like everyone.”

Tenzō tries to respond, but his throat is too tight.

Kakashi continues, “Do you think Obito knew he was going to die? Do you think Rin knew she would too, and leave me alone? And Minato, do you think he knew he would leave me too when he said what you’re saying now? No. You have no idea what’s going to happen. How can you promise me you’ll never leave when they all did?”

“Kakashi. Kakashi, look at me.”

Tenzō holds his breath as Kakashi shifts, finally raising his eye to meet Tenzō’s. Tenzō takes the last step, closing the distance between them, so small and yet as vast as a canyon. Before he can stop himself, he reaches out, closing his hands around Kakashi’s. He can feel how tightly they grip the vial, how they shake against his will. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know when I’m going to die, or when you are. I can’t promise I won’t be _taken_ from you. But, Kakashi, I will _never_ leave you alone.”

Kakashi’s open eye is bloodshot, iris dark, pupil blown wide. Something about it makes Tenzō shiver. 

“Alone, what would you know about being alone? You who makes friends so easily, who can’t enter a room without people being drawn to you. What do you know about being alone?”

Tenzō’s taken aback by the metallic sharpness in Kakashi’s tone. It stings. But he knows that this isn’t Kakashi’s heart talking. It’s his fear. 

“I was raised alone. I grew up underground, in the dark. Right here in this hellish labyrinth under Konoha.”

Kakashi closes his mouth as he stares at Tenzō. 

“I was always alone. I didn’t have a family. I didn’t have friends. I had orders and the next mission. I didn’t know what camaraderie was, what friendship was. I’d never felt love. Not until I got out. Not until someone pulled me out.”

Tenzō can see the silent question in Kakashi’s eye. _Who?_

“I never told you this, but we have someone in common. Someone we both loved, love. To me, he was a stranger, a kind man with so much compassion that he took the time to care about a nobody like me, someone who no one had ever looked at before. To you, he was something else. He was your sensei. It was Minato.”

Kakashi’s breath catches as his grey eye pierces into Tenzō’s. 

“What?” 

It’s barely a breath, a whisper. But Tenzō hears it clear as day. 

“He found me, and he pulled me out of that dark place. This dark place. He was the first person to look at me as the child I was, not as a soldier or a weapon, but as a person, a kid. And I loved him for it. He was the first person I loved.”

Kakashi is pale. He looks like he’s frozen in shock. Tenzō’s heart constricts in his chest. He slowly, tenderly rubs small circles on the back of Kakashi’s hand with his own. A silent reminder. _I’m here. I’m not leaving._

“I left ROOT that day. I left this horrible place behind and found a new life. I joined a team and realized that there were more people like him. People who cared. People that I could love and that loved me in return. And when Minato died-”

Tenzō has to stop for a moment to clear his throat. He can feel the hot prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes, but he presses on. 

“When he died, it was like a piece of my heart died too. Like it got ripped out and left a massive hole there.”

Kakashi’s grip tightens around the vial, and Tenzō’s hands do their best to soothe him, small caresses trying to ease the tension in his shaking fingers. 

“I-” Kakashi starts, and Tenzō’s eyes go wide. “When he died, when he and Kushina died, they were my last- the last people who loved me. I didn’t know what to do. It was like my life ended that day too. My heart, something in it broke. I didn’t think I would ever be able to feel again. To ever love again. But then- then I met you. I met you and something in me just-”

He looks down, breaking their eye contact, his gaze dropping to the floor. Tenzō’s chest feels like it’s going to explode. This must be what a heart attack feels like. 

“I promised myself I would never care about anyone again, because all it does it hurt. I promised myself I would never let anyone see me that way either, see all the pain and the darkness in me. But I broke that promise. I hurt you. I ruined everything. Love- it rips your heart out. It hurts. And it ruined everything.”

“Kakashi, no.”

Tenzō releases Kakashi’s hands, instead raising them up to lift Kakashi’s face, fingers gently cupped under his chin, raising him back up to meet Tenzō’s eyes. 

He slowly, ever so slowly, traces along the edge of the mask with his fingertips, hesitating only a split second before gently pulling it down. 

“I see you. Kakashi, I see you. The good _and_ the bad. The pain and the hurt. But _also_ the love.”

Tenzō smiles as he remembers that pair of blue eyes. 

“Love isn’t a weakness, Kakashi. Your love isn’t a weakness. Emotion isn’t a flaw. It’s not bad. Yes, it can cause pain. Yes, you will feel loss. But it’s all worth it. That’s all part of living.”

Tenzō sweeps the grey mess away from Kakashi’s face, his hand staying on the side of his cheek. Kakashi’s eye flutters closed as Tenzō’s fingers smooth across his skin, but when Tenzō’s hand stops, he opens both eyes. 

“You- you remind me of him, a bit.”

Tenzō can’t help the smile that turns up the corners of his mouth. He rubs his thumb over Kakashi’s cheek bone, unable to stop himself. Even in his condition, this man is beautiful. So beautiful. More than he’ll ever know. 

“But-”

Tenzō’s heart sinks at Kakashi’s word.

“He died. He loved me, but he died.”

The memory swims dark in his eyes, and he grips the pill vial even tighter. 

“Yes, he died,” Tenzō admits, looking deep into Kakashi’s eyes, trying to convey everything to the man before him. “But his love for you didn’t. That won’t ever leave you. And Rin and Obito, their love for you won’t ever leave you either. Just because they’re no longer with you doesn’t mean they left you.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen as Tenzō places a hand over his heart. He can feel it speeding under his palm, beneath the thin hospital clothes. 

“Their love for you won’t ever leave you, Kakashi. And neither will mine. Because-”

Tenzō takes one last deep breath before taking the plunge.

“Because I love you.”

His voice fills up the darkness around them, almost material in its solidity. It’s a statement. A truth. Just like the sky is blue or fire is hot. 

“I love you, Kakashi, and nothing will ever change that. Nothing will ever take that love away from you.”

Tenzō takes his left hand away from Kakashi’s chest, reaching behind himself. He knows exactly what he needs to do. There’s not much more he can say. But there’s someone else who hasn’t spoken yet, at least directly. It’s his turn.

Kakashi’s eyes widen when they focus on the item Tenzō pulls from his kunai pouch. An orange book, too flashy for its own good, tattered and dog eared with time and use. Tenzō lets his other hand drop too, and with it, he slowly removes the vial from Kakashi’s hands, which are now slack with surprise, recognition. He replaces the vial with the book, and Kakashi’s fingers close around it, tight. 

He looks at the cover for a moment that stretches on for an eternity. Then he opens it up. 

Tenzō watches with bated breath as Kakashi’s eyes fall to the first page, to the words written there. Then he speaks.

“It’s not just me. His love is with you. It has been this whole time. He never truly left you, Kakashi.”

A drop hits the page, slowly sinking into the paper, as a wet train glistens down Kakashi’s cheek. He traces the words written on the page with his fingers, a small, delicate movement full of wonder, full of remembrance. 

Tenzō waits in silence as his heart races in his chest and his lungs burn with the lack of oxygen he isn’t taking in. He’ll wait for Kakashi to make the first move, to say something. Even if it takes all night. Even if every fibre of his being is screaming in anticipation, he will wait. 

Kakashi is worth the wait. 

It could be hours, or it could be days, before Kakashi’s fingers finally still on the page. Tenzō’s stomach twists in knots as he watches Kakashi slowly close the book, still firmly gripping it in his right hand. Then he looks up. 

He looks up, and something in his eyes is different. Less guarded. Free. 

“Tenzō-”

He isn’t actually sure who moves first, but as soon as Kakashi has raised his arms, they come together. Tenzō’s heart leaps into his throat as he grips Kakashi’s shoulders, holds on with no intention of letting go. Kakashi is still shaking in his embrace, but Tenzō suspects it’s only partially due to his withdrawal and more to do with how close they’re pressed together in the dark. 

Tenzō can feel Kakashi’s heart racing beside his own, and he holds on even tighter. Kakashi hides his face in the crook between Tenzō’s neck and shoulder, his arms circled around Tenzō’s waist in a death grip. 

They’re so close, closer than they’ve ever been before, and Tenzō soaks it all in. The warmth of Kakashi’s body against his, the way his arms fit perfectly around his torso, how Kakashi’s breath tickles the short hairs on the back of his neck, the way his heart beats in time with Tenzō’s own. 

The road that led them both here, to this moment, was less than ideal. But with Kakashi in his arms like this, holding onto him for dear life, Tenzō can’t bring himself to mind. This moment, despite how they got here, is perfect. It’s more than he could have imagined. More than enough. It’s everything.

He gently runs his hand through the silver strands at the base of Kakashi’s neck, fingers carding through the mess with reverence, with such care, with such love that he doesn’t think he can contain it. His heart is practically bursting with it. 

Tenzō doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing like this, locked in each other’s embrace, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he can manage is a whisper.

“Kakashi, you’re so brave. Kakashi, I love you.”

At his words, Tenzō can feel Kakashi’s sudden intake of breath against his shoulder. He shifts his head slightly to turn it more towards Tenzō’s neck. His voice is so quiet that even spoken into his ear, Tenzō can barely make out what he says.

“S- say it again.”

Tenzō’s heart flutters, and suddenly there’s tears in his eyes, running down his cheeks. He can’t help the smile that lights up his whole face. 

“Kakashi, you are so strong. I love you.”

He strokes Kakashi’s hair as he holds him even tighter against his chest.

“I love you.”

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

He doesn’t know how many times he repeats it, a tender whisper just loud enough for the two of them to hear it over the beating of their own hearts. But as time goes on, Kakashi starts to shake less and less in Tenzō’s grasp. His breathing becomes more even, and his cold, clammy fingers start to regain some of their warmth. And the whole while, he never loosens his hold, only moving impossibly closer to the man holding him tight. 

But suddenly it isn’t enough. Their embrace, no matter how close it is, isn’t enough. Kakashi shifts under his grip, and Tenzō loosens his hold, only slightly. Just enough for him to pull back far enough to see Kakashi’s face in front of his own. 

Their breath mingles in the near darkness surrounding them, but Tenzō can see the emotion in Kakashi’s eyes. He’s no longer holding back. This is what he’s wanted all along. Kakashi. Like this. Warmth and love banishing away the shadows in his smokey eyes, leaving a silver light in its place, a glint of something more. 

He brushes his thumb across Kakashi’s cheek, the tip of his finger tracing the scar just below his eye.

“Beautiful. So beautiful.”

He can feel his face heat up when he realizes he said it aloud, but the look on Kakashi’s face is entirely worth it. He starts to squirm under the fierceness of Kakashi’s gaze, the emotion shining in his eyes, and he blurts out the first thing he can think of.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

And Kakashi does. 

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Kakashi brings his hands up to cup Tenzō’s face. Tenzō remains frozen as Kakashi inches closer, lips slightly parted, breath held in his chest. 

But then Kakashi is kissing him. And it’s everything. 

Despite how chapped Kakashi’s lips are, they somehow manage to be impossibly soft, impossibly tender against his own. And hot. As they brush against his, Tenzō can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine at the burning feeling that tingles everywhere Kakashi is touching him. And he’s being so gentle. It almost breaks Tenzō’s heart how Kakashi manages to kiss him with such tenderness in such a desperate, heated moment. 

All too soon, they’re breaking apart, only slightly, just enough for both of them to catch their breath. But there’s a twinkle in Kakashi’s eyes as he gazes into Tenzō’s own, and in an instant, they’re coming back together, this time less gentle, less unsure. 

Tenzō wraps his arms around Kakashi’s neck, pulling him down, even closer to himself as Kakashi deepens the kiss, his hands gripping Tenzō’s waist firmly but somehow softly at the same time. Only when they’re both dizzy from lack of air do they break apart again, leaning on each other heavily as they catch their breath. The whole while, neither lets go. 

This. This is what Tenzō has been waiting for. What he’s been fighting for. This feeling, the light in Kakashi’s eyes, the warm hands holding him close, the heart beating against his own to their own rhythm. 

He draws Kakashi into another embrace, pulls him close, their bodies fitting together perfectly, like a dream. 

“This must be a dream,” he manages to say, his voice hoarse in the quiet surrounding them. 

“If it is, it’s the best dream I’ve ever had.”

Tenzō’s heart drops somewhere into his stomach. He’s dizzy with how much he loves this man. 

This time, it’s Tenzō who buries his face in the crook of Kakashi’s neck, unable to hide his smile as his lips press into the skin there. 

“Tenzō.”

Kakashi’s voice is softer than Tenzō has ever heard it before. 

All he can manage to croak out in response is a breathless “Yes?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. Something that I haven’t said aloud to another living soul in over ten years.”

Tenzō can’t breathe. He can feel Kakashi’s heart speeding in his chest, pressed so close to his own, and both their breathing is heavy. He might pass out. 

But Kakashi’s arms surrounding him, keeping him in a tight embrace, hold him steady when on his own, he would have been shaking like a leaf. There’s an eternity of silence before Kakashi speaks again, but Tenzō doesn’t rush him. He knows how hard this is for him. How much of a risk he’s taking, giving Tenzō a piece of his heart. So he waits, smoothing the grey locks that glide through his fingers. 

Kakashi releases a breath, the last air of doubt rushing out of him as he holds Tenzō close to him.

“I love you too.”

They tighten their hold on each other again, so much that it would hurt, except Tenzō can’t feel anything but pure joy, pure love, in this moment. He can’t help but laugh as tears trickle down his cheeks and feels Kakashi’s own drip onto the back of his neck. 

This is ridiculous. They’re ridiculous. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I never want to let go,” Tenzō admits into the crook of Kakashi’s neck.

His whole body is filled with light when Kakashi replies. 

“So don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that happened. Finally. 
> 
> Only a few more chapters to go! Stay tuned! <3


	10. Rage

Lies are stirring storms   
I listen spheres from far   
Whereunder shoreward away   
you walked here Protector   
unassuaged asunder thought   
you walked here Overshadow   
-Susan Howe

_This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I don’t deserve this. To be this happy. It must be a dream._

Kakashi can’t exactly pinch himself to make sure he’s awake with a book clutched tightly in one hand and Tenzō’s fingers interwoven with his other, a warm palm pressed against his own, a constant reminder of how lucky he is. How loved he is. 

His body is absolutely exhausted, weary, sore beyond belief. But there are more important matters at hand that him getting a good night’s sleep. After Tenzō followed him to the ROOT facility and confronted—confessed—to him, they realized that it’s up to them to put an end to Danzo’s experimentation, their obligation to make sure that what happened to him never happens to anyone ever again. 

But Kakashi can’t shake the feeling that he’s not the only one that’s been affected by the Cure. The sheer amount of pills in the facility, the conversation he overheard the first time he broke in, it all makes him think that this operation goes deeper than the level of simply testing the drug. They’re being mass produced, and that can only mean one thing. 

Danzo is supplying his ROOT operatives with a mind numbing, emotion suppressing poison. And it could kill them all. 

“Hey, you okay?”

Kakashi jolts back to reality at Tenzō’s words, his hand being gently squeezed. 

“Yah, I’m just-” He frowns but nods, squeezing back. “I just can’t believe I didn’t realize how big this operation was, how deep it ran, when I first found it. I should have tried to stop it, not get sucked into it.”

“Kakashi, this isn’t your fault. Danzo is the one at fault. Don’t forget that. And besides, I’m the one that left ROOT all those years ago, who knew that what they were doing was wrong, and didn’t do anything about it.”

Kakashi glances sideways at him, his heart aching in his chest at the look of guilt etched into the lines on Tenzō’s face. How can he think this is his fault? 

“Tenzō, without you, I would still be in that dark place. Maybe even dead. You were right. Those pills were going to kill me. It’s thanks to you, only you, that I’m here right now. And we are going to set this all right. Together.”

Tenzō looks up at him, a faint smile visible in the way his eyes light up in the first dregs of morning light. He lets out a breath, bumping his shoulder with Kakashi’s as he responds.

“Yes, you’re right. We can do this together. But I think we would stand a better chance if we include Genma and Raidō in any plans we make.”

Kakashi looks at Tenzō, a brief flicker of worry in his eye, but Tenzō continues.

“Kakashi, despite how you pushed them away, they care about you. And they’re going to want to help. If not for you, then for the good of Konoha. I trust them.”

The twisting feeling of uneasiness in Kakashi’s gut lessens somewhat at Tenzō’s words of reassurance. If Tenzō trusts them, then Kakashi does too. That’s all there is to it.

“Okay,” he nods. “But before we go to fill them in, I’m going to need some clothes.”

The chill morning air slices through his hospital clothes as they walk, hand in hand, down the deserted streets of Konoha to his apartment. This isn’t exactly a look he wants people to see. Plus, he needs his gear if they’re really going to do this. Infiltrate Root and destroy their chemical operation. 

“I would have to agree with you there,” Tenzō laughs.

The sound catches Kakashi off guard. It’s so light, cheerful. And he was the reason for it. He made Tenzō laugh. His chest fills with warmth. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

The smile that lights up Tenzō’s face makes Kakashi dizzy. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. 

His own smile is conveniently hidden beneath the hospital mask, but his crinkling eyes give him away as he runs his thumb along the back of Tenzō’s hand. 

He knows now that life with Tenzō won’t be painless; it won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth living. With Tenzō, Kakashi doesn’t have to balance the good and the bad of his past, of his present, alone. Tenzō will be there to steady him when he falters, to pick him up when he falls. And his team will be there too, if he lets them in. He doesn’t have to fight alone anymore. And it’s a wonderful feeling. 

 

 

Kakashi watches Tenzō out of the corner of his eye while he rummages around his apartment, shoving supplies into his kunai pouch and various pockets. Tenzō shifts awkwardly from foot to foot just inside Kakashi’s living room, standing next to the window as though he’s unsure if he should come further into the space. 

Kakashi isn’t sure why Tenzō is feeling anxious now, especially when compared to how solid and brave he was in the ROOT facility when he was talking Kakashi down. Tenzō is truly a study in contradictions, all fierceness and fire one minute and bashful and blushing the next. And honestly, Kakashi finds it endearing. And more than a little distracting.

“You can come in, you know,” he chuckles as he fishes a kunai out from the knife block on his kitchen counter. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t been in here before.”

Tenzō splutters, staring wide eyed at Kakashi, but he eventually takes a few more steps into the room. Though, Kakashi notes that he still looks tense as he mumbles a response to the floor. 

“I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have-”

But Kakashi cuts him off with a hand, waving away his worry. 

“Tenzō, it’s okay. Seriously. I’m just glad you cared enough to do it. Otherwise-”

He trails off as their eyes meet, and he walks around the table to stand in front of Tenzō. He reaches out and holds Tenzō close, arms wrapping around the shorter man’s frame.

“I’m just really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Tenzō breathes into his shoulder, hands gripping the fabric of Kakashi’s shirt. 

They stay like that, arms wrapped around each other, chests pressed together, just soaking in each other’s presence, for a few short minutes. But all too soon, they’re breaking apart. 

“We should get going.”

Kakashi nods, taking a step back, but as he does, he’s hit by a wave of dizziness so intense he barely has the wits to steady himself by reaching out a hand to grip Tenzō’s shoulder. He breathes deeply, squeezing his eye shut in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning, his stomach churning viciously.

“Kakashi! Kakashi, are you okay?”

Tenzō’s voice sounds distant. Like it’s floating through water. 

Kakashi feels strong hands steadying him, and after a moment, the dizzy spell passes. He tentatively opens his eye, straightening up to look at Tenzō, who’s face is filled with concern. 

“I’m fine,” he pants as he regains his footing.

Tenzō, however, does not look convinced. He furrows his brow as his eyes sweep over Kakashi, looking for any sign of a tremor. 

“Really, I’m okay. I was only dizzy for a minute, but it passed. The withdrawal- it’s getting easier, but I don’t think my body has recovered fully from taking the Cure yet.”

He tries to smile, to look reassuring, but it doesn’t reach his eye. Tenzō sighs, running his hand through his hair. He looks as exhausted as Kakashi feels, bags under his eyes, hair sticking up in different directions, and Kakashi is hit with another wave of affection. It’s so strong it threatens to blow him over. 

_He’s probably slept as little as me over the past few weeks. Maybe less._

“Okay, if you say so,” Tenzō sighs, not convinced in the slightest. “But I’m at least going to make sure you get some food into you before we go to Genma’s.” 

“Fine, fine.” Kakashi replies, trying his best to sound exasperated, but his fondness bleeds through. “Let’s get some breakfast.” 

Tenzō shakes his head dramatically in response, but he snorts when Kakashi adds, “Your treat, of course.” 

 

 

Kakashi chuckles in amusement as Genma chokes on his coffee, and Raidō has to pat his back until he catches his breath. Raidō glances down at his hand, interwoven with Tenzō’s, and raises a brow, but mercifully, he doesn’t say anything. 

Kakashi can feel Tenzō shift awkwardly next to him when Genma finally speaks.

“You two- both of you were missing from the hospital- we thought you ran off and Tenzō followed, but now- now you two show up here at the crack of dawn holding hands! Did I miss something here? Last time I checked, you were unconscious, Kakashi, and looked pretty dead too. And now you’re here. Together. Like, _together_. And-”

Genma trails off, leaving his tirade unfinished, and he looks to Raidō for some form of enlightenment, but he receives none. Kakashi suppresses a laugh, feeling Tenzō still tense next to him. 

“Look,” Kakashi starts, but he’s suddenly unsure what exactly they know, what he should say. 

He feels a reassuring pressure and warmth pressing against his palm, and he looks to Tenzō, asking a silent question. _How much do they know?_

Tenzō’s grip on his hand tightens as he looks sideways at Kakashi.

“It’s okay. I told them everything.”

Kakashi nods, swallowing his worry. Tenzō was right; they need Raidō and Genma if they want to stand a chance going against ROOT. Letting them help him—letting them in—letting them see this vulnerable side of himself—is terrifying, but just one warm, reassuring smile from Tenzō melts away the fear surrounding his heart like ice. 

“Okay,” he breathes. “Let’s start then.”

“First,” Tenzō says, reaching into his kunai pouch, “I think you should have a look at exactly what we’re dealing with here.”

He tosses Raidō something, and when Raidō catches it, he holds it up to examine it, and Kakashi’s stomach drops when he instantly recognizes the familiar vial. The Cure. 

Genma shifts to get a better look at it as Raidō spills its contents onto the table. Genma picks one up, holding the clear pill up to the light, squinting slightly as he examines it. 

“It doesn’t look very dangerous, does it?”

“Well it is.”

They turn to look at Kakashi, who’s fighting the twisting feeling in his stomach and attempting in vain to ignore the way his skin crawls when he sees the pills spread out on the kitchen table in front of him. His voice is rough when he speaks again, though it’s barely above a whisper.

“It almost killed me. And it did kill. Or, I did, when I was on it. This is one of the most dangerous substances I’ve seen, and Danzo is having it mass produced underneath Konoha.” 

Genma and Raidō look at each other worriedly, but Tenzō is the first to speak.

“And that’s not all. We think he’s administering it to his ROOT operatives as well. He’s feeding the shinobi of Konoha poison. And some of them are likely children.”

“Shit,” Genma mutters, shaking his head as though he can’t quite wrap his mind around it.

Raidō seems to grapple with it faster, as he slams the vial down on the table, cursing, “That bastard!” 

“Right,” Kakashi agrees, his voice hard. “But the problem is, Danzo is still a village elder and advisor to the Hokage. We can’t exactly take him out. Not without evidence.” 

“But if someone were to sabotage the operation, off the books...” Genma suggests as he twists the senbon in his mouth between two fingers. 

“Yah, I think that’s our only option,” Tenzō sighs. “If we destroy this operation, we essentially cut the head off the beast by decimating Danzo’s control over his brainwashed subordinates.” 

“And then ROOT crumbles,” Kakashi adds.

He looks to Tenzō, whose brown eyes reflect the fire he feels burning in his own as he speaks. 

“And then ROOT crumbles.”

 

 

“All the tags are set,” Raidō announces as he emerges from the shadow of a tree, stopping when he reaches Genma’s side. 

“Great,” Tenzō replies, his eyes sweeping around to look at each member of their team. “The explosive tags should draw them out the main entrance, while we slip in through the entrance that Kakashi was using. It’s mainly used by the research division, so it shouldn’t be full of ROOT operatives.”

Kakashi nods when Tenzō’s eyes fall on him, and he glances up at the crescent moon visible through the dark foliage overhead, gaging the time as he speaks. “We should start soon.”

He draws his tanto, and beside him, he sees Tenzō grab a fist full of kunai. Genma’s fingers are already interlaced with poison tipped senbon, and Raidō’s katana is unsheathed, steady in his hands. 

Kakashi nods at Raidō as he says “Now!”

In the distance, a series of explosions ripple through the silence, the sound reverberating off of the rock wall next to them, an eerie echo distorted by the cliff. Tenzō runs his hand along the stone face of the cliff, palm outstretched, and it freezes when he finds what he’s looking for. 

Kakashi watches as the doorway opens in the cliff face. Tenzō slips inside first, being swallowed up by the darkness, followed quickly by Kakashi, then Genma, with Raidō bringing up the rear. They run through the dark passage in silence, their chakra cloaked and their footsteps so soft they make no audible sound. 

They come to a halt outside the familiar closed door, and Kakashi’s heart starts to race in his chest as his breathing becomes more shallow. It’s going to be difficult being back in that room. But as though Tenzō can read his thoughts, can sense his discomfort, Kakashi feels Tenzō’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it as he looks at Kakashi with a smile. And that’s all Kakashi needs. He reaches out, twisting the knob and swinging the door open.

Genma and Raidō follow them inside the room, and their eyes widen as they take it all in. 

“How could no one have known about this?” Genma asks incredulously as he reaches into a crate, pulling out a vial of the Cure with a frown of disbelief. 

Over at the long lab table running the length of one of the walls, Raidō sifts through the stacks of papers, shaking his head as his eyes skim the words. 

“This operation looks like it has been going on for multiple years now, given the amount of work they’ve done on it. All these documents of tests and subjects and trials. We should take it all.” 

He starts to stack up the papers, shoving them into his pack with Tenzō’s help, while Genma and Kakashi get to work, lining the shelves with explosive tags. When they regroup, the room is rigged to blow at their command, and the only things left on the table are the test tubes full of chemicals, the wall behind it now empty. 

Raidō zips the pack closed, slinging it over his shoulder. This is all the evidence they need to be able to justify their actions to the Hokage. Evidence of Danzo’s human testing, his mass manufacturing of poisonous drugs, his distribution of the drug to his subordinates. There’s no way the Hokage will be able to turn a blind eye to Danzo’s actions now. He’ll finally be held accountable for everything he’s done here. 

“Okay,” Kakashi breathes, taking one last sweeping look at the place that almost ruined his life, the place where he both lost so much and gained so much. “Let’s get the hell out of here and end this.” 

They race back out of the underground facility, the hallway sloping upwards as they ascend back to the rock wall they came through. When they reach the doorway, Kakashi’s skin prickles. He can sense a mass of chakra outside the door, just on the other side of the cliff face. It feels like multiple different people are waiting right outside. Waiting for them.

“Shit,” he mutters, turning to look at his team. “It looks like our distraction didn’t divert everyone. I can sense at least eleven right outside, possibly more. And once we blow the place, more will come.”

In response, Raidō draws his katana and Genma grabs a fistfull of senbon. Tenzō makes eye contact with Kakashi as Kakashi raises his hitai-ate, and his sharingan swirls into action. He can see every detail of Tenzō’s face even in the dark, his slight frown, the thin line of his mouth set in determination, the fire burning fiercely behind his tired eyes. 

Tenzō reaches out a hand, and Kakashi takes it in his own, holding on tight. 

“Okay,” Tenzō breathes, never breaking eye contact with Kakashi. “Let’s do this.”

Tenzō squeezes his hand tightly, then releases it, raising it up to release the seal on the stone wall. Kakashi’s hand feels oddly empty and cold without Tenzō’s intertwined in his, but he brings his hands together, ready to release the explosive tags the moment they’re out of ROOT. 

Then the door slides open, and all hell breaks loose. 

 

 

Kakashi lunges to his left and manages to dodge a kunai as it sails past his ear and crashes against the stone behind him, ricocheting off to the side. 

“Remember,” he yells to his teammates over the noise of the fight that’s already ensuing around him, “incapacitate, don’t kill. They’ve been brainwashed by the Cure. They can still be saved.”

He whips around to make sure his team are all out of the facility, the stone wall firmly in place behind them, before he activates the explosive tags. All it takes is a single second of concentration, a flicker of chakra flaring in the dark deep below them, and the whole world starts to shake. 

Kakashi braces himself with a hand on the cliff as the ground beneath him quakes with the force of the explosives detonating through the tunnels under their feet. To his right, Tenzō uses his Mokuton, wood shooting out of his outstretched hands and into the earth to steady himself against the violent shaking. Genma crouches close to the ground, one hand steadying himself while the other is clenched close to his chest, laced with senbon. Farthest away, Raidō grips his katana, the blade sunk into the ground as he braces himself by holding on to the hilt. Around them, the ROOT operatives steady themselves against the trees near the stone face of the cliff, their masks hiding their surprise, but their body language giving away their shock as they cling to the branches for support. 

Now is the time to attack, while the ROOT shinobi are still incapacitated, mere seconds after the first explosives have been activated. It’s their only advantage. The element of surprise. 

Kakashi pushes off the stone wall, launching himself at the nearest operative, still clinging to a tree. They raise their arm, tanto clenched in their fist, trying to block Kakashi’s attack, but Kakashi is too quick. He sweeps his own tanto down in a blur of silver, disarming the ROOT operative as their blade drops to the ground. In the same swift movement, Kakashi’s leg spins around, his foot connecting with their head. The shinobi falls backwards, body crumpling against the trunk of a tree, unconscious, but Kakashi freezes as their mask cracks from the force of the kick’s impact. 

The crack spreads over the ash white animal’s face, gouging through the red marks and splitting the mask in two. As it falls to the ground, time slows. Kakashi can hear his heartbeat in his ears, can see the mask split as the two pieces hit the ground and shatter. And everything goes completely silent for one split second that stretches on as Kakashi looks into the face of the shinobi he incapacitated. 

The face of a child.

A child with skin so pale it looks like he’s never even seen sunlight. A child with hair black as the shadows he was raised in. A child who can’t be over the age of seven, likely younger, face peaceful in his unconscious state. It’s almost as though he’s sleeping. 

But he’s not. He’s an enemy. A subordinate of ROOT. An elite shinobi trained by Danzo himself. A child brainwashed into fighting grown shinobi capable of killing him in an instant.

Kakashi’s blood boils at all of it. At the sight of the small boy curled up on the ground at the base of the tree, so still he could be sleeping there if it weren’t for the tanto blade lying just out of reach of his outstretched hand. At the sounds of battle crashing around him as though the world didn’t stop when this child was unmasked. At the thought that these other masked shinobi could be just like this little boy. That Danzo did this to this small child. 

That Danzo did this to Tenzō. 

But the world starts spinning again, all too soon. The screams ring shrill in his ears. The clash of metal reverberates off the stone wall next to him. And a black blur shoots past him, headed for the child. 

Before Kakashi can even react, the ROOT operative is kneeling at the little boy’s side, shaking his shoulders.

“Sai! Sai, wake up!”

The shinobi rips off his mask, casting it aside as he holds onto the younger boy, and Kakashi’s heart clenches painfully in his chest. This operative is young too. So young. He looks maybe only a year older that the child he holds tightly to his chest, his shoulder length grey hair falling around his face, obscuring it from view. 

“Sai!” he cries again, but his voice dies in his throat as he begins to cough violently, his whole frame shaking as he hacks, still desperately clinging onto the boy. 

Kakashi watches in agony as the grey haired boy continues to cling to the black haired one, bringing up one hand to stifle his coughing as the other cradles under the smaller boy’s head. When he brings his hand away from his mouth, it’s shaking violently and dripping with blood, but the boy doesn’t seem to notice. He’s still trying to get the younger one to wake.

Kakashi can feel himself shaking in anger, in pure rage. 

_This is wrong. This is so wrong. Danzo, I’m going to kill him for this._

He has to force himself to turn away from the two boys and rejoin the fight. The black haired one will be out for a few hours at least, and the other won’t bother them. Not when he so clearly cares more for the boy than the mission. 

Kakashi has to wonder if the grey haired boy is taking the Cure. He can’t be, if he was acting like that. And yet, the way he’s shaking, the way he’s so clearly ill, it almost looks like a side effect of the drug, what would have happened to Kakashi if he hadn’t stopped taking it. And maybe it affects people differently. After all, if it was enough to make a grown man like him so sick, he can’t even begin to imagine what it would do to a child. 

Anger flares inside him as he turns, his gaze sweeping around the fight. 

Tenzō is fending off three ROOT operatives on his own, his Mokuton shooting wooden branches out of the ground to block their attacks as he weaves around, waiting for an opening to take one of them out. Kakashi runs to him, hitting one of the ROOT shinobi from behind and taking them down in one perfectly timed strike. The other two shinobi turn to look at Kakashi as one of their own falls to the ground, and Tenzō takes this as his opportunity. His Mokuton erupts from the ground at their feet, winding around them in a prison of wood. 

Tenzō looks at Kakashi, nodding in thanks, but as he does, Kakashi can see the way his small smile falters when he notices something is clearly wrong.

“Kakashi, what is it? This is working.”

“They’re- Tenzō, they’re just kids. This is wrong. I’m going to kill Danzo for this.” 

Tenzō’s eyes widen at his words, and Kakashi can feel his gaze drop down to his clenched fists, shaking in fury. 

“This-” he continues, “this could have been you. If you were born later. If you hadn’t left.”

Tenzō reaches out to him, taking his shaking fist in his own hand as he speaks.

“I know. Believe me, I know. And we’re going to make it right. We’re going to make him pay. Hold him accountable. We came here to finish this, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

All Kakashi can manage to do is nod. Tenzō is right. They’re going to finish this. They have to.

“Shit,” Tenzō curses, “I can sense more coming.”

Kakashi looks around them at the handful of incapacitated ROOT operatives, then glances over to where Raidō and Genma are taking care of the last few. A senbon flies, sinking into the neck of one of the masked shinobi, and Kakashi flinches, but a moment later he remembers that Genma didn’t coat them with a lethal poison when they were preparing their supplies. Instead of his usual poison, he coated them in a weaker substance that would take the ROOT shinobi down but not kill them. 

Raidō finishes one of the masked shinobi off with the hilt of his katana, and he turns towards Kakashi and Tenzō, yelling “I can sense more just around the corner. And I think D-”

But he’s cut off by a kunai shooting directly towards him. He manages to evade it, but when they all look up to see where it came from, Kakashi’s stomach drops. Dozens more masked ROOT operatives loom over them, standing on top of the cliff, the cold light of the moon illuminating them from behind, making them look more like phantoms than shinobi. And front and centre in their group stands Danzo, arms crossed, his cold eye surveying them with disinterest.

“What a mess you’ve made. But you couldn’t even manage to kill any of them. Such a disappointment. I thought I trained you better, Tenzō.”

Kakashi is frozen, his veins pulsing full of fire but the back of his neck prickling like the temperature of the air just dropped ten degrees. Beside him, Tenzō is deadly still. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing, and he’s paler than Kakashi has ever seen him before. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. And Kakashi supposes he has. 

Somehow, Kakashi manages to fight off his shock and fear, and he finds the strength to move. In an instant, he’s standing in front of Tenzō, shielding him from Danzo, arms outstretched and hands perfectly still, without even the slightest tremor. 

“Danzo,” he seethes between clenched teeth, “you’re going to pay for this.”

Danzo looks at him for a moment, considering him with his calculating eye, before he throws his head back, laughing. Except, there’s no humor in his voice, no shadow of amusement in his action. It’s a cold, grating sound, and it sends shivers down Kakashi’s spine. 

“You think just because you blew up one of my labs and took down a few of my operatives that you can take me down too? You think that you can take on all of my most elite shinobi, and myself, and dismantle my operation?”

Kakashi grips his tanto so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and his lungs scream for air, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe. 

“You’re a fool. All of you are. Just like Hurizen. You spout such idealistic nonsense, but when the time comes, none of you are willing to do what it takes to defend Konoha. Hiruzen was always too soft, and I see that his ANBU are the same. You can’t possibly win against the army I’ve created. I’ve created the perfect weapon, and nothing can stop it.”

“People aren’t weapons, Danzo.”

Kakashi turns at the sound of Tenzō’s voice coming from behind him. Tenzō is still pale, but he looks more determined, more sure, than Kakashi has ever seen him, except maybe when he was confronting Kakashi deep within the underground ROOT facility. He has that same look of utter determination and steadfast, unbending will now as he did then. Danzo doesn’t know what’s going to hit him. 

“People are not pawns for you to manipulate. Children are not soldiers. Forced compliance is not loyalty. Blind anger is not power. You’re wrong. ROOT has already fallen. We know everything, and you’re not going to get away with all of this. You will be held accountable. You will finally face what you’ve done. It’s over, Danzo.”

The fake smile Danzo is wearing turns quickly into a grimace at Tenzō’s words, his one visible eye shining black in the night. He’s not going to give up without a fight. 

“You were always the weak link, Tenzō. And now I’m going to prove it. Your love will be your downfall. I’m going to kill your team, everyone you care about. And then you’ll come crawling back to me. No more liabilities, no more emotions clouding your judgement. Your Mokuton will be a valuable asset for ROOT, a powerful weapon against other villages.” 

His eye shines in the dark, piercing Tenzo with his gaze as he reaches for his katana, slowly unsheathing it. “But first, I’m going to break you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! We're almost there! 
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger (pun intended), but next time, it will be resolved. One more regular chapter, and then an epilogue chapter. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments and continued support! <3


	11. Hope

things absolute but absent  
are not alone Nominalism  
While I lie in you for refuge  
it is sanctuary it is refuge  
-Susan Howe

“Not if I break you first.”

Kakashi shields Tenzō with his body, sneering at Danzo beneath his mask. 

_This is not how this mission was supposed to go. But I’m not going to let Danzo get anywhere near Tenzō. Not a chance in hell Danzo is going lay even a single finger on him._

Kakashi clenches his fists, one still tightly gripping his tanto, as he stares Danzo down, his sharingan watching for even the slightest movement or sign of a threat. 

“Look at you both,” Danzo mocks, his voice turning the air to ice. “It’s pathetic. You’re all alone. There’s only four of you, and I have forty shinobi surrounding you, ready to take you down at my command. You don’t stand a chance. Why do you resist?”

Anger courses through Kakashi’s veins like fire as he opens his mouth to retort, but no words will come out, his whole body tense. He relaxes, though only slightly, at the feeling of Tenzō’s hand on his shoulder, warm, steadying, reassuring. Tenzō steps out to stand next to him as he speaks, his voice firm. 

“I’m not afraid of you, Danzo. And I’m not alone. Four against forty. Four against four hundred. It doesn’t matter. You’ve manipulated your subordinates into fighting for you. You’ve poisoned them, and they will only get weaker. They already are.”

Kakashi follows Tenzō’s line of sight to the small, black haired boy crumpled against a tree and the silver haired boy kneeling next to him, coughing violently, his whole body shaking as he digs his fingers into the ground to support himself. 

Something painful twists in Kakashi’s chest at the sight. It’s too familiar. Too real. 

“The weak deserve to die,” Danzo says, his face hard, completely unsympathetic to the child hacking on the ground below him. “Those who are strong enough to protect Konoha will follow me. Hiruzen is foolish and weak. Under his rule, Konoha will fall to other villages—villages that have trained their shinobi harder, more ruthlessly. I will train and lead the powerful shinobi of his village, and we will be a force to be reckoned with among the other hidden villages.”

“The people of this village will never follow you, Danzo.”

Kakashi turns at the sound of Genma’s voice. He stands next to Raidō, so close their shoulders are touching, both of them fully armed, their faces set firm in resolve. Kakashi is hit with an overwhelming sense of camaraderie, friendship, respect. 

Danzo’s face turns sour at Genma’s words, flung at him with such a blatant tone of truthfulness, obviousness, and he opens his mouth to retort, but Raidō beats him to the punch.

“The shinobi of this village will follow the Sandaime, not some snake who slithers out of the shadows to poison their minds and incite war. You will never have the power you seek.”

A violent rage burns in Danzo’s eye as he scrutinizes Raidō and Genma, but his eye soon flickers back to where Kakashi and Tenzō stand, side by side, similar in posture to Raidō and Genma. He sneers down at them, his tone turning mocking, but still sharp as a razor blade just beneath the surface. 

“Just look at the pair of you, both of you. It’s sickening. You look like the product of one of the Yondaime’s teachings. ‘Love is more powerful than hate.’ ‘Strength comes from the bonds you share with your team.’ Such foolhardy words from the mouth of a child. He should never have succeeded the Sandaime. It was meant to be me! I would never have let the Kyūbi attack the village. And the fool died because he lacked power.”

“No!” Kakashi yells up at him, his fists clenched and shaking with anger. “He was strong-”

But Danzo cuts him off.

“He was weak! Where was his precious _love_ when the Kyūbi attacked? Where was _love_ when the village burned and the people were killed? Where was _love_ when his wife died? When he died? When he left his demon son to live alone, hated by the village that it destroyed, with no one to love him. And where is it now—his love? It’s long dead, just like him. Just like you will soon be.”

Kakashi flinches when Tenzō takes a step out, staring Danzo down with such a look of rage that any other opponent would have fled just from fear of the fire burning in his eyes. 

“You have it backwards, Danzo. It was Minato’s love for this village, for the people in it, that gave him the strength to fight back. It gave him the courage and the motivation to keep fighting, to seal the Kyūbi. And we, all of us, his students, his comrades, his people, we are his legacy. His love. So long as we continue to fight for what he believed in—so long as we remember his sacrifice—so long as we have bonds to protect and love to give us the strength to do it, his power will live on in our hearts. And you will never be able to understand that. You will never be able to defeat it.” 

For a moment, Danzo is completely silent. The only sound that can be heard other than the sporadic coughing of the child, still clinging onto his unconscious friend, is the whistle of the wind as it rushes through the trees, blowing leaves around them in a swirl of dark green. But then he laughs. A cold, sharp, bone-chilling laugh like a door with rusted hinges being forced open. 

He ceases abruptly, pointing his katana down at Tenzō as he speaks.

“Just for that, you will be the first to die.” 

“Over my dead body,” Kakashi growls, his grip on his tanto tightening as he readies it for the inevitable attack. 

Danzo simply looks down on him, not a single glimmer of emotion in his eye. Only the cold, calculating stare of a man so hungry for power that he has forsaken any shred of humanity he had left long ago. With his blade still pointed down at Tenzō and his eye hardening on the pair of them below him, he opens his mouth once more.

“Kill them all.”

Kakashi lunges out of the way of a shuriken speeding towards his chest, knocking Tenzō out of the path of a kunai. Wood bursts out of the earth, surrounding them in a protective barrier, but already, the Mokuton is going up in flames, smoke seeping between the cracks in the wood as it burns with the fury of a Katon jutsu. 

In the darkness surrounding them, Kakashi can feel Tenzō pressed against him, can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest and his breath short against his neck, choked because of the smoke.

“We have to take Danzo out if we want to end this,” Kakashi manages through the burning sensation threatening to close up his throat. “Release in three.”

Tenzō tenses beside him, readying himself for the attack, one hand outstretched, ready to release the Mokuton, while the other braces his arm. 

“Three!” Kakashi shouts, and the wood surrounding them bursts apart, throwing burning shrapnel in all directions as smoke screens their movements. 

“Up there!”

Kakashi follows the line of Tenzō’s pointed finger to the figure still perched on the edge of the cliff, silhouetted by the moon illuminating the smoky air. On either side of him, a masked ROOT shinobi stands poised, ready to protect their master from attack. 

Something twinges in Kakashi’s chest when he realizes that these shinobi are too small. Too young. Maybe twelve, but certainly not old enough to be used as a human shield by a village elder. Too young to be expected to throw their lives away for the man who took them away from their homes and their families and brainwashed them in the dark, twisted them into his emotionless puppets. 

The one on Danzo’s right stands weaponless, his hands brought up into a triangle, waiting as the wind whips his auburn hair across his mask, the long strands flickering like fire in the dark. On Danzo’s left, another masked shinobi tenses, gloved hands clasped together as though he’s waiting for the right moment to peel them off and expose his hands. 

Kakashi barely has time to register anything other than their height, neither of them reaching Danzo’s shoulders, before he launches up at them, Tenzō following close behind, backing him up. Wood erupts out of the cliff face as Kakashi runs up the smooth stone surface, the thick branches knocking kunai off their trajectory. They rain back down, sinking deep into the ground below, as ROOT operatives dodge them along with the bursts of Genma’s senbon flying through the air. 

Danzo steps back when Kakashi and Tenzō reach the top of the cliff, letting his two subordinates step in front of him. 

“Torune,” Danzo shouts at the boy on his left.

The dark haired shinobi rips off his gloves, and beside him Tenzō curses.

“Shit! Kakashi, don’t let him touch you. If he does, you’re as good as dead.”

The black gloves drop to the ground, and Kakashi blinks, not sure exactly what he’s seeing. This boy’s skin is purple, a sinister deep violet. He doesn’t know what this jutsu is, but even without Tenzō’s warning, he knows that letting this shinobi lay a hand on him would be deadly. 

Kakashi jumps to the side as the ungloved shinobi surges towards him, arms raised. The dark colour Kakashi previously thought was a shirt, he realizes now, is actually more exposed skin, the same sickly violet as his hands. 

“Fū,” Danzo directs to the boy on his right, “finish him off.”

The red haired shinobi raises his hands in the triangular seal, directing it at Kakashi, but his concentration is broken when the earth at his feet buckles and wood tangles around his legs. He manages to leap away from their grasp, but he breaks his seal as he throws his hands out to steady himself against the rocky top of the cliff. 

“He’s a Yamanaka,” Tenzō calls to Kakashi as he dodges the shuriken Fū throws at him. “Don’t let him catch you in one place. You have to keep moving!”

Kakashi’s sharingan falls on the auburn haired boy, analyzing his every move, noticing even the twitch of a finger, the bob in his throat as he swallows down air, the flash of his amber eyes as his gaze darts between Tenzō and Kakashi. 

Even with his sharingan trained on the Yamanaka, Kakashi senses movement behind him, and he swiftly steps out of the way, barely managing to evade Torune’s touch. 

He streaks past Kakashi, using his momentum to lunge closer to Tenzō instead, changing his target as he runs. Kakashi watches in apprehension as Tenzō skids out of the way just in time, cursing under his breath. He uses his Mokuton to force Torune back, keeping him at a distance.

Suddenly, orange flashes in Kakashi’s vision, and he leaps to the side to avoid Fū’s tanto, swinging straight for his chest, no hesitation in his movements. Kakashi manages evade the arc of the blade, but he’s taken aback by such deadly force, such firm, resolved action in the killing movements of a child. 

_Was I like this? As a genin, a chunin, a jōnin? As a child that was capable of killing for my village._

_I was only five when I left the academy. When I became an adult in the eyes of the village. Isn’t that wrong. Isn’t all of it?_

He ducks instinctively as a kunai whistles past his ear, causing his hair to stir as the air around it swirls. His sharingan never leaves Fū for even a moment. He can’t afford to get caught in a Yamanaka jutsu. It’ll mean the end for him, and maybe even the rest of his team.

He wonders how Raidō and Genma are doing down below, taking on so many ROOT operatives at once, but he and Tenzō can’t leave Danzo up here unattended. He’s the reason they’re fighting in the first place. He’s the reason Tenzō grew up underground, without the love of a family, without anyone to care for him at all, with only the next mission and Danzo’s word as law. 

He hurt the person Kakashi cares about most in the world. The person he loves. 

And every single one of Danzo’s subordinates has the right to that too. The right to be loved. 

Kakashi swallows down the bile in his throat and ignores the crushing pain in his chest and the way his limbs have become heavy as lead weights as he lunges at Fū, weaving as he runs so as to avoid getting hit by his jutsu. 

As he brings his tanto down, he can see a faint glimmer of fear in the amber eyes watching through the mask, can see the moment the Cure ceases to hold back the emotion churning violently within. 

But it’s too late for him to stop the movement. The blunt handle of Kakashi’s tanto comes down on Fū’s head, causing him to crumple to the ground, unconscious. 

Kakashi whirls around to see Tenzō dodging an outstretched hand, his movements starting to slow almost imperceptibly due to the fatigue that must be hitting him hard. He’s about to join Tenzō in fighting off Torune when Torune stops dead, mid step, his raised arms dropping to his sides, the fight forgotten, as he looks down at Fū’s body splayed out on the rocks. 

“Fight, you coward! Are you disobeying direct orders from your superior?” 

Danzo’s words appear to have absolutely no effect on him. They simply roll off his slumped shoulders as he stands, completely limp, staring down at the body of his friend. 

Then his hands start to shake. 

Then he falls. 

“Get up and fight!” Danzo screams, but the child merely shivers, supporting himself with quaking arms as he heaves next to the crumpled form on the ground. 

“This is what the Cure does, Danzo,” Tenzō says firmly, staring him down as he stands fixed in place, immobilized by his own fury. “It doesn’t create weapons. It doesn’t create the perfect shinobi. It destroys you, body and mind. You’ve poisoned these children long enough, and it ends here.”

“This isn’t an ending,” Danzo barks, his eye wild as his lips curl up in a twisted grimace. “The Cure was only one experiment. Only one part of a bigger plan. This changes nothing. ROOT will not be disbanded so easily.”

Kakashi sheathes his tanto, the movement catching Danzo’s eye. A wicked smile contorts the visible part of his face, and Kakashi almost recoils at the sight of it. 

“So you’ve decided to listen to reason.”

Kakashi’s arm goes stiff as his fingertips start to go numb. His veins buzz as jolts of energy flow through his muscles. He can see the exact moment Danzo realizes what he’s doing. When the sound of crackling like birds chirping fills the air, Danzo’s smile disappears. 

White-blue light flickers and dances around them, illuminating the top of the cliff in a pale, ghostly light. 

Kakashi raises his arm, supporting it with his other hand as he directs the Chidori at Danzo’s chest. 

But suddenly, it’s like all the air’s been knocked out of his lungs. In the flicker of blue light and shadows, he sees a face. Rin’s face. 

Then he sees the rest of her, lit up by the sickly glow of his chakra. He sees the gaping hole in her chest and the blood spilling down onto the ground, and something in him snaps.

His hands are shaking, his breath is coming heavy, and his head is spinning so quickly the edges of his vision go black, threatening to make him completely blind to all else happening around him. 

_No! I will not let this happen again. Not now._

_Kakashi_ , she calls, _you did this._

He barely registers the feeling of Tenzō’s hand on his waist, supporting him, or the sound of his name being spoken worriedly in his ear. He can’t take his eyes off of Danzo. Off of her.

_You did this_ , she repeats. 

It’s all he can do to remain upright, leaning heavily on Tenzō, solid and warm and so distant right next to him. 

_You did this. You managed to draw Danzo out. You overcame your past, and you created the beginnings of a future. You found someone to love you again, Kakashi. I’m so happy for you. You’ve come this far, and you can finish it. I know you can do it._

“Rin,” he manages to choke out, his eyes blurry as he takes in those words. “I’m so-”

_Don’t. You’ve apologized enough for a lifetime, Kakashi. Live your life. Live it to the fullest. Live it with no regrets. That’s all I want from you. No more words. No more tears. Just be happy._

“Rin-” he whispers, the sound lost in the crackle of lightning coursing down his arm.

Kakashi trembles as the darkness surrounding his vision fades away along with the image of her swimming in his eyes, the blue light of his Chidori throwing shadows and light across the cliff. His breathing evens out as he straightens up, placing a hand on Tenzō’s shoulder more as a gesture of reassurance than to keep himself upright. 

He feels stronger now. Like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Like he can finally breathe fully again. 

“You are weak,” Danzo spits at him, the disgust written clearly across his face.

“No,” Kakashi says firmly. “I’m not.”

He glances sideways at Tenzō, looking deep into his brown eyes, and he can see his love. His strength. The last of the lines of worry on Tenzō’s face melt away as he looks back, reading the confidence in Kakashi’s eyes, the surety. 

“I used to think that fighting on my own made me stronger. Or that depending on others—caring for others—would make me weak. But I was wrong. It isn’t about me. It’s about the people that are precious to me. The people that I love. They give me the will, the courage, the strength to keep on fighting. And you will never have that.”

He once again raises his arm, Chidori pointed at Danzo, but this time, his hand is steady. 

Opposite him, Danzo moves for the first time. He shrugs the robe off his shoulders, letting it fall around his waist. Then he pulls his right arm out of the fabric and raises it up to match Kakashi’s stance. 

But Kakashi starts. Danzo’s whole arm is sealed by thick metal rings bolted together. And something about it makes his skin crawl. That is no ordinary jutsu. Whatever it is, it’s so powerful that it needs to be sealed away, only brought out in life or death situations. 

“Some of my subordinated may be weak,” Danzo says as he reaches for the seals with his left arm, “but they aren’t the most powerful weapon I’ve created in ROOT. That honour is reserved for myself.”

Kakashi knows that if Danzo manages to unseal whatever that is, they’re done for. He has to attack now, before Danzo can get the chance to reveal his most powerful weapon. 

Kakashi takes one last deep breath, glancing at Tenzō who looks back into his eyes, giving him all the confidence he needs to start moving. He charges without a moment’s hesitation, his arm stretched out, aimed perfectly at the centre of Danzo’s chest. 

With his sharingan, Kakashi can see Danzo’s hand move through the air, reaching for his sealed arm as though through water, every movement slow, magnified, creating visible ripples, predictions. And he can see the hard, cold rage in Danzo’s eyes light up as his Chidori plunges closer and closer to him, his pupils constricting, narrowing in on Kakashi’s swift movements. Just as his outstretched hand is about to pierce into Danzo’s chest, ending the fight and ROOT along with it, the world shifts, and Kakashi is blown backwards.

He skids back, hitting something hard, and it takes a moment for him to realize it’s Tenzō, hands outstretched to break his fall. Together they stare over at what disrupted their fight. At _who_ disrupted their fight. 

As Kakashi’s Chidori fizzles out, it briefly illuminates the figure standing between himself and Danzo, staff held firm in his hands, one end pointed at himself, and the other pointed at Danzo, keeping them both in check. 

“Sandaime-” Kakashi finally manages to force out, but he’s cut off almost immediately.

“Kakashi, stand down. Danzo is a village elder and one of my advisors. You have no authority to kill him.”

Past Hiruzen, Kakashi can see Danzo’s arrogant grin, and anger burns in his chest. But before he can open his mouth to retort, Tenzō takes a step forward, appealing to the Sandaime.

“Danzo’s been conducting illegal experiments on children in the village, taking them from their homes, poisoning them against you, creating emotionless pawns, and breeding an army beneath Konoha. How can you stand in between us, protecting him?”

Hiruzen turns to Tenzō, the lines etched into his face even more pronounced as he sees the sincerity, the truth in Tenzō’s words. 

“Without proof-” he starts, but another voice interrupts, causing them all to turn in surprise.

“You want proof? Here’s your proof.” 

Raidō and Genma stand next to the edge of the cliff, looking disheveled from their fight, their clothes torn in a few places, some minor cuts running down their arms, a thin cut running down the side of Raidō’s face, but otherwise uninjured. They look out on the scene before them, and Raidō gestures towards Torune and Fū, almost forgotten, both lying on the ground, Torune collapsed next to Fū. 

“You want proof?” he continues incredulously, “Just look at the dozens of other Konoha shinobi that have been manipulated my Danzo. They’re all incapacitated or too weak to continue fighting, because of what Danzo’s done to them.”

Genma sheds the pack with all the papers they collected from the ROOT facility and throws it to Hiruzen. It lands with a thud at his feet, the papers spilling out as the vial of pills rolls across the ground in front of him. 

“Here’s your proof.”

Hiruzen turns to Danzo, the many scars and lines on his face drawn by decades of grief, and Kakashi realizes in this moment just how old he really is. Just how long he’s been doing this job. How many wars he’s seen, how many Konoha shinobi killed, how much responsibility and pressure have been placed on the shoulders of a man who was forced back into this position after he watched his successor die before him. 

“Danzo,” Hiruzen looks to him, his eyes full of regret. “What do you have to say about this?”

“If you believe them, you’re just as weak willed as you always were. You will run Konoha to the ground before you realize that I’ve been right all along. We need to make our shinobi stronger, more powerful, and your ridiculous regulations will be the end of the shinobi world as we know it.”

“I’ve grown weary of having the same fight with you, Danzo. This is not what the Nidaime would have wanted.”

“He was a fool, just like you!” Danzo spits, his words sharp as a blade. 

“I will not tolerate you speaking ill of our sensei, Danzo. He was a great Hokage and an honourable man. And I will certainly not allow you to continue poisoning the children of this village—the future of this village. ROOT will be officially disbanded, and you-”

“You will be the death of Konoha!” Danzo growls in spite, standing his ground. 

“And you,” Hiruzen counters, “will answer to the Council.” 

Danzo lets his arm drop to his side, but his grimace stays fixed in place, manic and wild. 

“I have no intention of answering to you, Sarutobi.” 

Kakashi barely sees it, a mere twitch of his finger in the dark, but then the world lights up in fire. Kakashi grabs Tenzō to pull him away from the blast as the ground shakes beneath them and smoke fills the air. A wave of heat scorches the earth, soon countered by a Suiton jutsu in the shape of a massive wall of water, crashing down against the rocks and rolling over the edge of the cliff to the forest below. 

Kakashi searches through the smoke with his sharingan, his eyes burning as he forces them to stay open. 

But Danzo is gone. 

“Damn it!” he yells, his fist connecting with a rock, causing it to shatter, a sharp pain surging up his arm. But he doesn’t care. Danzo got away. 

“I can’t sense him,” Raidō calls, looking as livid as Kakashi feels. 

“Sandaime?” Tenzō asks, his voice rough.

“Leave Danzo to me,” he replies, his gaze sweeping over the four of them. “I have another task to ask of you.”

 

 

“Raidō, your report?”

“The facility has been completely buried. There’s nothing left of the operation but rubble. We’re sifting through it room by room, but the scope of the operation is larger than we thought. It will take some time to get through all of it.”

“Genma?”

“The search for other facilities hasn’t turned up anything yet, but we’ve only covered about a third of Konoha’s terrain so far. The team I assembled is continuing their search as we speak. If they turn up anything, you’ll be the first to know. And there’s no word yet on Danzo yet either. He’s biding his time in the shadows, but when he surfaces, he will face everything that he’s done.”

“Good,” the Sandaime nods, “good.”

He removes his hat and and places it on the desk in front of him, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes for a moment to shut out the early morning light streaming through the windows behind him. 

“And you two, Kakashi, Tenzō?”

Kakashi looks over at Tenzō, standing right next to him, their shoulders brushing as they exchange a glance. 

“All of the ROOT operatives are currently in the hospital undergoing tests,” Tenzō explains. “Some of them are in worse shape than others. The drug has varying effects, especially on the younger ones, but now that they’re off of it, they’re regaining their strength.”

Kakashi’s stomach twists as he remembers how small the silver haired boy, Shin, looked lying in the hospital bed, with the even younger black haired boy, Sai, next to him, refusing to leave his side. 

“Many of the children are from prominent clans in the village,” Kakashi adds, “and their families have been informed of their condition. But some of them don’t know who their families are, or they’re orphans. We need your decision on what we’re going to do about their situation soon, before they’re all released from the hospital.”

Hiruzen releases a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ve contacted some orphanages, but many of them are too old.”

“That’s not good enough!” Tenzō exclaims, slamming his hand down on the Sandaime’s desk in frustration. “Our village has grown too complacent, treating children as adults when it suits us, as burdens when it doesn’t. I know this system. I grew up in it. And so did Kakashi. We had no one. This needs to change.”

Kakashi’s heart clenches at Tenzō’s words, and he reaches out to take Tenzō’s hand, intertwining it with his own, rubbing his thumb in circles soothingly. But he too takes a step forward, placing his free hand on the desk as he agrees.

“Tenzō’s right. We need to be held accountable for what happens to the children of this village. They are our legacy. Our future. These children will surpass us one day, and we have to do everything we can for them now, before they’re the ones helping us, saving us.

Hiruzen looks up at them, water in the corners of his eyes as he nods.

“You’re right,” he says as he looks between the four of them. “You’re absolutely right.” 

Kakashi can feel Tenzō relax, leaning into his side as he squeezes Kakashi’s hand, and he can’t help but smile.

Kakashi knows that there’s a long road ahead of them. They have to entirely dismantle ROOT, boulder by boulder, waiting for the moment when Danzo will inevitably emerge from the shadows to reconstruct his operation, to challenge the Hokage and the ideals of Konoha. 

But with Tenzō and his team—his family—by his side, Kakashi has hope, real hope, maybe for the first time. And it feels good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it. Only the epilogue left to go. This is insane. Thank you for all your support!


	12. Epilogue - Happiness

Characters usually sleep well but from time to time one wakes up crying for no apparent reason.  
-Susan Howe

night prisoner  
be at peace  
the naked soul  
will linger here  
in porcelain vision  
remember me

morning ghost  
wake me as  
broken smoke their  
concrete father vast  
as time’s secret  
heal him  
as I lie

SIX YEARS LATER

Tenzō wakes to the smell of coffee wafting past the bedroom door, standing slightly ajar. His hand instinctively reaches out, but he feels only the empty wrinkled sheets pushed back on the other side of the bed. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes as they adjust to the light streaming through the crack in the doorway, a thin line of yellow illuminating a sliver of the dark room.

Tenzō glances at the clock and groans when he sees that it’s not yet five, the village still asleep just beyond the window, the sun only now beginning to outline the silhouette of the mountains in a faint pink glow. 

_Of course that bastard’s up before the sun._

He slides his feet out from the warmth of the blankets and winces when they land on the cold, wood floor. He yawns, stretching his arms up over his head, ignoring the way his joints pop. 

_He better have brewed the whole damn pot._

Tenzō grabs a shirt from the chair next to the bed, not bothering to check whose it is as he pulls it down over his head. It’s slightly tighter across his chest and shoulders than normal, which tells him that this is, in fact, Kakashi’s shirt, but he wraps his arms around himself anyways, inhaling the scent, and begrudgingly smiles to himself as he pads out of the room.

“You’re up early,” Tenzō states to the back of Kakashi’s head. 

Kakashi hums in reply, leaning over the table, a pen in his hand, poised and hovering over something Tenzō can’t see from his angle. 

Tenzō makes his way over to Kakashi, his silver hair shining and still damp from the shower he must have just taken. Tenzō places a hand on each of his shoulders, leaning in to plant a kiss on the top of his head. Kakashi relaxes at the touch, leaning back into Tenzō’s warmth, putting his pen down as he shuts his eyes and releases a deep breath. 

“The coffee in the pot is still warm,” he mutters, cracking open his eye, the crinkles making it obvious that he’s smiling beneath the mask. 

“God, I love you,” is all Tenzō says in response as he makes his way around the counter, reaching into the cupboard. 

Only once Tenzō has drained half of the black liquid in the cup does he speak again, leaning on the counter to peer at Kakashi, hunched over the dining room table, pen tapping the wood repeatedly as his brow furrows.

“So, what exactly are you working on at this ungodly hour, the morning that you’re supposed to be getting ready for the meeting with your new genin team?” 

Kakashi’s pen ceases its incessant tapping as he turns to look at Tenzō, his grey eye tired. Tenzō knows he hasn’t been sleeping well this past week, and clearly something is on his mind. But he also knows that Kakashi will talk to him about it when he’s ready. 

“I’m trying to figure out what the hell to write in this book,” Kakashi explains, gesturing to the book lying open on the table in front of him.

Tenzō walks back around the counter, coming to stand next to Kakashi, and he leans over the table, flipping the cover of the book closed so as to read the title. 

He recognizes it immediately. _The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi._

_Of course_ , he thinks.

“For Naruto?”

Kakashi sighs, flipping the cover back open to the title page, his hand skimming along the inscriptions written there.

“Yes. I think it’s what Minato would have wanted. Being his sensei. Giving him this. I know what I want to say, but I just can’t seem to be able to write it out. It’s infuriating!”

Tenzō looks down at Kakashi, and his heart melts. He cards a hand through Kakashi’s silver mess of hair, looking at the inscriptions written on the page before them. 

_To Minato, my gutsy student. When I wrote this story, I had hoped one of my students would bring about the change in the shinobi world that would create peace and end all conflict. That was a long time ago. But I still have hope for this story, hope for your story that is yet to be written. And I look forward to seeing it one day. -Jiraiya._

_To Kakashi, the only student I can pass this on to. I know your heart is filled with loss, and I know that right now, you feel like nothing can fill that hole, that dark and seemingly bottomless void. But you have to have hope. Hope that you can continue on, grow, and become a better shinobi, a better man than me. This story brought me happiness and hope and inspired me to pursue my dreams for a better world, to become Hokage. I hope it can do the same for you. -Minato._

“Wow,” Tenzō breathes. 

“Yep,” Kakashi agrees, his voice subtly strained.

“I haven’t read those in a long time. Not since…” Tenzō lets himself trail off, lost in thought, in memory. 

“Yep,” Kakashi agrees again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How do I follow that? How do I articulate everything—everything Minato taught me, everything I hope to teach him—after that. After what his father wrote.”

“Well, I think the best thing you can do is write the truth. Write what’s in your heart. That’s what Jiraiya did and what Minato did.”

“Okay,” Kakashi sighs. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Tenzō counters. “You should know that by now.”

_Finally_ , Tenzō thinks as Kakashi laughs, his eye crinkling and his mask unable to hide the outline of his smile. 

“Sure, that’s why I keep you around.”

Tenzō scoffs, shoving Kakashi’s shoulder fondly.

“Whatever, I’m going to go take a shower.” 

Kakashi picks up his pen, once again leaning over the table, looking slightly less frustrated than before. It’s a win in Tenzō’s book.

 

 

Kakashi leans back in his chair, dropping his pen and closing the novel, the bright orange cover meeting his gaze. 

“You finished it?”

Kakashi turns at the sound of Tenzō’s voice. He’s leaning on the frame of the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water running down his shoulders from his wet mop of brown hair. His eyes are bright, the smile shining through them as he looks over at Kakashi. His chest fills with warmth at the sight. 

“It’s done,” Kakashi replies, pushing back in his chair.

He stands up, reaching for the novel to pack it in his kunai pouch, but Tenzō starts to make his way over to him.

“Do you mind if I read it?” 

Tenzō’s voice is hesitant, but Kakashi puts him at ease with a smile.

“Of course,” he says as he hands over the worn book, Tenzō taking it from his hand with almost ridiculous gentleness. “You’re just as much a part of this as I am. Minato’s legacy. My story.”

His breath catches at the bright beam Tenzō throws his way. He’s just so beautiful, so breathtaking, even after all these years. Tenzō never ceases to amaze him. 

Kakashi waits in anticipation as Tenzō’s eyes skim over the page, his expression unreadable. But then he closes the book and hands it back to Kakashi, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“It’s perfect.”

Kakashi sighs in relief, feeling himself smile in response. Tenzō’s smile is infectious. It can cheer him up even on his darkest days. Even when he occasionally wakes in the middle of the night, crying out, feeling as though the shadows of his past are wrapping around him, strangling him, pulling him back into the nightmare. 

But Tenzō is always there, right next to him, warm and real and full of so much love that Kakashi can’t even begin to fathom how he got so lucky. It’s on those nights that he holds Tenzō impossibly close, listening to the beating of their hearts, letting the sound ground him, remind him he’s at home, remind him he’s loved. 

And not just by Tenzō either. 

Kakashi has his team too. Genma and Raidō, his best friends. The friends who never gave up on him. The kind of friends that act like your parents even though they’re completely insane and childish at times just like you. Well, that and the fact that they are parents, sort of. 

After ROOT was dismantled and all the operatives were released from the hospital, some of them were too old to be put into the proper Konoha orphanages, and with the Sandaime’s approval, Raidō and Genma took in a few of the older kids. 

Raidō always insisted that it was just until they were able to take care of themselves, until they could get by on their own, but all of them knew that as soon as Sai and Shin moved in with the two papa bears, there was no going back. Genma and Raidō instantly became the dads of the year, something which Kakashi never lets them forget, but Kakashi shivers at the thought of what Genma always says to him when he jokes about how soft they’ve become.

_Just you wait ’till it’s your turn, Hatake._

Just the thought of being in charge of three genin brats is enough to make his stomach churn. Even if one of them is Minato’s son. 

“Kakashi, isn’t it time for you to get going?”

Tenzō’s words bring Kakashi back to the present, and he looks up to see Tenzō standing in front of him, head cocked slightly to the side, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“You’re going to be late,” Tenzō says, shaking his head as he glances over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, but he’s failing miserably at hiding the reluctant smile that’s turning up the corners of his mouth. 

“Maa, maa, Tenzō. If I show up on time today, that’ll just give them unrealistic expectations for the next time.” 

Tenzō snorts, unfolding his crossed arms to push Kakashi closer to the door, his hands lightly pressing into the space between Kakashi’s shoulder blades, the gesture more fond than forceful. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” 

Kakashi stops when he reaches the door, his hand pausing on the knob as he turns to look at Tenzō. Tenzō wraps his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders, and he lets himself be pulled down into the warmth of the embrace. 

“Have a good day,” Tenzō whispers into the crook of his neck. “And please don’t fail them without giving them a chance!”

Kakashi can’t help but chuckle at Tenzō’s words. 

“Of course, I’m always fair.”

It’s Tenzō’s turn to laugh at that, and he squeezes Kakashi even tighter for a moment as he breathes “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kakashi replies as Tenzō releases him.

His hand tightens around the doorknob, and he swings it open, stepping out into the hall. In his other hand, two bells on either end of a ribbon jingle in time with his feet. The sound brings a smile to both their faces.

As Kakashi closes the door behind himself, he lets out a contented breath. Today is going to be a good day. He can feel it.

 

 

_To Naruto, my student and the son of my sensei. I know that I should have been in your life more. Especially since I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother and father. And I’m truly sorry for that. But I can promise you this much, you will always have me. You will always have those who care about you—those who love you—those who are precious to you. No amount of time or distance can change those feelings. Not even death. Your mother loves you, and your father loves you, and if you let me, I will too. There’s nothing in this world that you have to face alone, no burden that you alone must bear, no part of yourself, no matter how dark, that can’t be saved. The precious people in my life taught me that. Your father taught me that. Naruto, don’t ever forget this: you are loved. -Kakashi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over... I can't believe it! What do I do with myself now?
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who gave me kudos and commented and took the time to read this little part of my soul. You're all wonderful! <3 
> 
> I don't think I'll ever be done with this pairing (no chance in hell... They are my otp), so stay tuned if you want more Kakayama in the near-distant future!


End file.
